


The Lion and the Wolf

by Ezeiel



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-18 12:19:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 60
Words: 315,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4705760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ezeiel/pseuds/Ezeiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Your heart is free, have the courage to follow it.” She’s a Wolf of Winterfell… wolf blood courses through her raging body. A wolf is untameable; she’s as unconquered and unbeaten as the northern snow. No man can tame a Wolf of Winterfell; the Red Viper has tried just like the golden Lion… but still, the lone Wolf rages on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: A brewing War

Forcing her way through the growing crowd, she found herself stood directly in front of the Grand Sept of Baelor. The King was already there, with his bitch of a mother, his dog, her sister then there was Littlefinger and Varys. A royal party. There was only one thing missing as far as Eliana was concerned... Moon Boy, with his stupid songs and dancing, poking fun at the unfortunate.

As the bells continued to ring throughout the city, the crowd was multiplying by the second - merchants, beggars, stable hands, sailors... everyone came when the bells sounded, like they'd all been trained. Trained hounds, hoping for a treat. But then again, she supposed that was exactly what they were about to get. In all her young life, she'd never met anyone who didn't like seeing someone else's head roll. Yes, they could pretend it was sad, or act like they were disgusted by it but deep down, _deep down_ , there was a part of every person who loved to see blood, loved the smell of death and to watch the life seep out of another man's form.

Ned Stark stared out at the crowd again - the square was packed now - as he was led out by two of his jailors. The people shouted, demanding his repentance, that he be killed, throwing insults as aimlessly as a child would throw a ball. But through it all, he found her standing there in the crowd.

He didn't want any of them there, not his children. He didn't want them to witness his punishment; he didn't want their last memory of him being when he would lose his head. He knew what Ilyn had planned... killing him with his own dammed sword - how awful and cruel for him to take down the Lord of Winterfell with his own Valyrian steel blade. But as much as it pained him, he knew that his eldest, despite it all, would stay throughout it all. Ah, but she was a Stark and she was much like her mother.

_Family, duty, honour. Family comes first. Always._

Eliana found her sister again, still stood atop on the Baelor beside the Queen. She was smiling, thinking she'd helped save her father's life but she was a child... she knew nothing of treason, nothing of the punishments carried out. She was a foolish girl, thinking she'd done him well. She'd made the stupid mistake of trusting the Queen, of trusting her one-dimensional son. Trust was a fragile thing, it was not meant to be easily given - but it was often easily broken and thrown aside. She would learn soon enough.

 _"I am Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, and Hand of the King,"_  Stark began, looking to his daughter who stood beside the Queen, who was all smiles and nods.

" _I come before you to confess my treason in the sight of Gods and men. I betrayed the faith of my King and the trust of my friend Robert. I swore to protect and defend his children, but before his blood was cold I plotted to murder his son... And seize the Throne for myself._ " Suddenly, there was a great uproar at his words - someone in the crowd even threw a stone which hit him in the side of the head. Ilyn Payne got a small chuckle out of that, poor Ned Stark seemed unfazed. The King's Dog caught his arm and forced him forward, continuing to give him speech that no one particularly cared about.

_"Let the high Septon and Baelor the blessed bear witness to what I say. Joffrey Baratheon is the one true heir to the Iron Throne, by the Grace of all the gods, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."_

Old Pycelle stepped up at his words. It was no lie - the Grand Maester was useless, hopeless, and a dirty old man _. "As we sin, so do we suffer. This man has confessed his crimes in sight of Gods and men. The Gods are just but beloved Baelor taught us they can also be merciful. What is to be done with this traitor, Your Grace?"_

The crowd seemed to roar their opinions but Joffrey slowly raised his hand and began to speak, and then the shouts died down again.

 _"My mother wishes me to let Lord Eddard join The Night's Watch. Stripped of all titles and powers, he would serve the realm in permanent exile. And My Lady Sansa has begged mercy for her father."_  He paused for a moment to stare at the two women while Ilyn found his hands twitching anxiously as he stared at the hilt, itching to pull the steel free.

 _"But they have the soft hearts of women. So long as I am your King, treason shall never go unpunished."_  The King finally looked over to where he stood, then his gaze stilled and finally turned cold.  _"Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!"_

She didn't really take much notice of what happened around her after that. It was noisy, everyone was shouting. She saw Varys run over to the King, she saw the two jailors force her father onto his knees, she saw Sansa panicking while Cersei was attempting to talk some sense into her son. Yet it all faded into the background and became unimportant.

Their eyes locked onto each other's again. The dark grey eyes met the same pair with flecks of cyan blue. The father and daughter continued to stare at each other as he sat on his knees waiting for his life to end.

She could see the fear in his eyes.

And he could see the fear reflecting in her own.

Eliana glanced to her side, spotting Yoren who was watching her and waiting for her to signal when the time was right. Arya couldn't watch this, she was too young for this. She nodded and Yoren disappeared soon enough.

_Arya couldn't see this._

Ser Ilyn's face was set, he stepped from where he stood, pulling his hood over his head even as he approached the former Hand of the King, every movement controlled and practiced, his steps smooth yet unnerving. All he could see and think about was the kill. He had a job to do, and he would perform.

He drew the Valryian steel blade from its sheath, the rasp of metal on leather rung through the crowd, and then he made his way calmly Ned Stark. The man looked once at his daughter, then at the crowd where he found his other child, then at the statue of Baelor. His grey eyes landed on her again, she nodded and he bowed his head and exposed his neck. Ilyn took a test swing, gauging the weight of the blade and noting how easily it cut through the air, the tip of the greatsword a few inches from Ned Stark's neck. The swing was smooth, practiced, and he found the weight of the blade acceptable.

He lifted the blade over his head, and brought it down in a wide arc. It slid through Ned Stark's neck like a knife through butter, barely even catching a thing when it hit bone.

He turned and sheathed the blade, then bent down to take a firm hold of Ned Stark's fallen head by the hair, picking it up and holding it high for the crowd to see. He brought it next to Joffrey and knelt, offering it to the King. It would be put on a spike, on a display for the whole city to see. Let a lesson be learnt - Justice would come to make them pay for their sins, and Ser Ilyn Payne was the emissary sent to teach them.

She swore she felt her heart freeze over for once and all.

Her father was dead, the only man she loved with all her heart, suddenly gone from the world.  _Her_ world.

She gritted her teeth as a poor attempt to stop the tears. Her hands reached for her hood and pulled it over her head, before she began pushing back through the crowds and away from the scene. She knew Arya would be safe with Yoren and Sansa, she could only hope that she would be able to take care of herself while in the Queen's wrath.

Soon they would realise something that the Stark's had been telling them for generations, and of course... they were always right in the end.

Winter was coming, and so was war.


	2. Along the Kingsroad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Your heart is free, have the courage to follow it." She's a Wolf of Winterfell... wolf blood courses through her raging body. A wolf is untameable; she's as unconquered and unbeaten as the northern snow. No man can tame a Wolf of Winterfell; the Red Viper has tried just like the golden Lion... but still, the lone Wolf rages on.
> 
> With her raging thoughts on the events that have just occurred in her once perfect life, Eliana struggles on the reality of her loneliness as she aims to seek out her brother, Robb.

Eliana Stark wasn't scared of many things. She wasn't a normal girl, she wasn't a girl she was a woman and not a normal one; she didn't scream and she didn't cry... She never attempted to seduce a man, she never wanted to marry or have children. She wasn't weak and defenceless but right now, she was running through the entwining brush, almost tripping over her own feet.

She never ran from nothing. Nothing.

But she was missing her father; the only person who only ever really understood her properly. The only person who supported her and taught her the wrongs from the rights. He was the only one who made the effort... who tried to capture her interest with different things.

Somehow, Ned had always known she was different, always trying to spark her intrigue with various activities that were enjoyable; sword, mace, lance... he also placed a deep amount of trust in her unlike her mother, he believed in her more than Catelyn did.

Eliana knew why though.

Her mother loved her - that she couldn't deny, but her father loved her more - if his public affection towards her was anything to go on. Catelyn wanted a girl for a daughter, not a daughter who prefers brawling in the mud with her brothers. She wanted a  _daughter_ and Eliana wasn't a  _daughter_ , not a proper young lady anyway. But neither was Arya, at least she had one daughter who was a  _proper young lady_ , even if she was " _in bloody love_ " with the little shit sat on the Iron Throne.

Sansa was so young and naïve - thinking that Joffrey was everything she had wanted and she would always find herself thinking...  _how could anyone love a one sided person, who was as sadistic and cruel as Joffrey?_  Eliana just couldn't help but feel confused as to why no one had ever questioned Joffrey's claim to the throne. He was golden-haired just like his mother and uncle. The Baratheons were known for their dark hair, and the Lannister were known for their golden hair.

It wasn't hard... but no one  _of course_  questioned a King but King's Landing was full of cowards and liars. The City of Lies, no one there was to be trusted... death was the most sensible option on offer.

Death was far kinder.

There was no doubt in her mind, that if she were to set foot in that place again she would be wanted for treason against Joffrey and then he would want her head on a spike... beside her father's - a new addition to his collection, but she wouldn't die without a fight even if she wasn't afraid of death.

She wasn't weak, she was stronger than most and thought clearer and more practically...

She was brought from her thoughts when she heard shallow breaths echoing around her, the only sound which was strangely comforting, was coming from her side. Shadow. She wasn't completely alone; everyone knew that Ned Stark had given his children the direwolf pups that had been found in the forest just outside of Winterfell. And she had one. Unlike her siblings, her's was the purest of blacks, with piercing blue eyes.

An odd combination, rare in fact.

Direwolves didn't often come like that. There was the common grey with yellow eyes and black with green eyes. Albino direwolves had the purest white fur with crimson red eyes.

Jon's direwolf, Ghost, was an Albino direwolf.

The chosen names of the direwolves were ironic - Ghost was white and Shadow was black. In her opinion, poor choice of names yet it suited them well enough. Shadow and Ghost were the only exceptions of the pack found, that reflected how Eliana felt. She and Jon were treated differently from their other siblings; favoured by Eddard more than Catelyn.

Her eyes focused on the direwolf again. Shadow was still a mere pup, but he was growing stronger by the day and soon would be a fully grown Direwolf. Direwolves could grow as large as ponies. Their legs grew longer and their head were larger than normal wolves with teeth that could crush bone... even a juvenile direwolf could kill a man by ripping out his throat. Direwolves were loyal to their masters and would attack anyone who dared threaten them, but that didn't make her any less cautious towards the beast.

She sighed, remembering her father's words...  _A direwolf will rip a man's arm off his shoulder as easily as a dog will kill a rat._ That's what she was worried about, that's where her caution had submerged and worried her.

She was grateful though, at least a direwolf would listen to her. She could only imagine if she tried to find her way on a horse - she wouldn't be able to discuss what she was going to do with a horse could she? It would be as amusing as watching a Moon Boy if she even attempted to make an impossible conversation with the horse. A horse would also cause more of a risk to her being found by Tywin's army.

She was grateful.

But she had more pressings matters to consider. She knew she couldn't return to Winterfell, her mother wasn't there. When she thought about it though, she actually had no idea where her mother was for that matter. Her brother had gone to war with the King and here she was, running.

At any moment, Tywin Lannister's army could have her. But she had to take the risk, and then she realised how badly she was underestimating herself. She was better than that, she wasn't stupid and she knew her way better than most, she was born in the north!

She was better than that.

* * *

She was a Stark of Winterfell, a Wolf of the North who was travelling all alone along the Kingsroad(not entirely the best choice she could've chosen) not straying far from the dirt tracks though. She'd travelled the path many times before, she just couldn't be too sure of what she would encounter along the way if she was to stray.

Eliana wasn't stupid.

She knew her way, she'd followed the dirt path through the capital's Dragon Gate and passed east of the God's Eye. But she crossed those not even a day ago, she hadn't rested because she didn't want to risk being stumbled upon. She had walked for leagues upon leagues, along the river road from the Trident and followed her way along slowly.

She'd also gotten word, when passing an inn at the crossroads that her brother, Robb, had captured Jaime Lannister in the Battle of Whispering Wood. Her brother had forged an alliance with House Frey, which secured him passage over the Trident. Eliana mentally cringed when she'd heard that, Walder Frey was untrustworthy - put an inviting amount of gold or silver in front of him and he'd betray you.

She'd also heard that he'd been joined by additional soldiers from House Frey of the Twins and House Mallister of Seagard, and then he moved on Riverrun from the north as an attempt to outflank the unsuspecting Lannister forces and somehow managed to actually relieve the besieged forces at Riverrun.

Eliana knew that her younger brother had managed to keep his march secret, thanks to the efforts of their great uncle, Ser Brynden Tully, and his outriders who were able to shoot down all of the Lannister ravens and any outriders screening the camps. They say, that every ten men that was lost on the Lannisters side for every one of Robb's that fell.

Several rumours concerning Jaime Lannister had also reached her ears. Some say he begged, others say he taunted and teased her mother and brother but all that mattered to her, was that the bastard had been taken prisoner by her clueless brother.

His capture left the Lannister army surrounding Riverrun leaderless, falling directly into its disintegration at the Battle of the Camps and also leaving his father, Tywin and his bitch sister, Cersei despondent. However, being Jaime Lannister, made him a valuable prisoner to have which would give Robb enormous bargaining power.

_So unfortunately Robb would have to keep him alive_ , Eliana thought. Although, not many would be happy with Robb sparing Jaime Lannister's life, Robb would need him to stay alive if they were to win their freedom from the  _Realm of Horrors_ , as she now called it.

Robb was a boy, a clueless boy who had never fought in a war before. He was as naïve as Sansa - the pair of them were foolish, believing in things that wouldn't ever happen, let alone come true.

But before she even made it to where Robb was, she would have to continue along the Kingsroad to be safe again, and that could take a couple of days at most.  _These days, the sea is safer than the kingsroad, h_ er father once told her before she left for Dorne. She knew it was dangerous to travel along it alone, but she wasn't alone - she had Shadow who was growing by the day.

Eliana could protect herself - she wasn't useless, she had her sword and her wits about her. She was quiet and thankfully, she was dressed in black which would give her the benefit to move through the darkness easily enough.

Eliana hoped she would find her family again, and no matter how hard it would be... she would avenge her father's death with all she had. She would die doing it if she had to. She would fight with her brother, she would fight with her father's bannerman and the houses that had rallied behind them until they were free from the wrath of King Joffrey, the little Shit.

She would fight for the North's freedom of the realm. Freedom was everything right now.

Freedom was their utopia, their desire - well, it was her's anyway.

She would help kill Cersei. And she would help kill Joffrey...  _all_  the Lannisters.

She didn't care what happened to her in the meanwhile, just as long as their aspiration was achieved.

That was all that mattered.


	3. The King in the North

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Your heart is free, have the courage to follow it." She's a Wolf of Winterfell... wolf blood courses through her raging body. A wolf is untameable; she's as unconquered and unbeaten as the northern snow. No man can tame a Wolf of Winterfell; the Red Viper has tried just like the golden Lion... but still, the lone Wolf rages on.
> 
> Arriving at her brother's camp, Eliana notices the naivety within her brother and believes he is the wrong person leading them to war...

The bannerman were the first to notice, followed by most of the rallied troops that had joined his forces when at the Battle of the Whispering Wood and the Battle of the Camps. The sound of a panting dog reach their ears,  _or was it something else?_  They weren't sure, not because they were deaf(which they weren't) but because a thick fog had gathered around the camp.

They were blind unless it cleared soon.

Through the darkness and wall of ever darkening grey, bared teeth suddenly appeared with unfriendly sound of growling.

Fear filling them, the troops closest didn't waste any time in scattering away from the beast. It wasn't a dog, it was much larger than a dog - that was what was unnerving. It's back was in the shape of a slope as it edging closer, cautiously, it's eyes glowing dangerously before it turned its head to the side as if it were listening out for something.

A signal or a sign.

Seeing his chance to catch the beast off guard, a bannerman threw his banner to the ground and picked up a discarded sword. With only hope, he went to throw himself towards the beast. " _Ahh!_ " He stumbled back, the sword falling to the hard ground. His panicked eyes fell on his right arm, which now had half an arrow peering out of one side.

They saw her head of hair before she rose her head to look up to them all, and they all felt their breath being taken from them at that very moment.

Eliana Stark was beautiful, with the dark hair that would shimmer and reveal the auburn tint to it in the light, grey eyes accompanied by flecks of blue glistening through and with her high cheekbones that caused conflict when deciding which side of the family favoured her looks. She resembled both her mother, Catelyn and her aunt, Lyanna when it came to her looks.

She came to a soundless halt, rest her hand on the soft fur that belonged to Shadow. As soon as her hand rested on him, he retreated and sat silently - mirroring her actions. "Never fight a wolf, it will always win." Her voice weaved through the crowd of staring men, that were making her feel more than uncomfortable. She never liked attention... not one bit.

"My lady Eliana." One man with a beard spoke, he'd remembered what had happened to his Liege Lord, his head was sat on a spike in the capital. Only moments after, the rest that were also gathered continued the action, bowing and speaking in their low voices.

She sighed,  _news really does travel fast and he hasn't even been dead three days._ She didn't care about their words, if anything, she'd rather not be known as a lady... she didn't want to be constantly reminded of her father's gruesome departure from the world. But then her eyes fell on the banners and relief filled her.

On one, _a grey direwolf raced across a field of white_ and on the other _, a silver trout leaping on a blue and red striped field._  House Stark of Winterfell and House Tully of Riverrun. She was safe, and somehow, she'd found them. She'd found her brother and her mother, and the feeling of being lost was restored by hope.

However, those weren't the only banners waving through the wind, they were joined in the air by blacks, greys, reds, green, yellows, and blues - all different shades of the houses sworn to the Starks and Tullys. She immediately recognized the more memorable and well-known nobles houses.

She spotted the flayed man first, red on pink. House Bolton of the Dreadfort, one of the most powerful houses of the North - they were known for their practice of flaying their enemies which always made her skin crawl.

Roos Bolton was untrustworthy, she never really trusted any house apart from her own and her mother's.

She then saw the sigil of two blue towers united by a bridge on a silver-grey, representing the Twins.

House Frey of the Crossing, a noble house of the Riverlands. The strategic location of the Twins had allowed the house to become quite wealthy. Under their current lord, Walder Frey, they had grown greatly in both size and power. They were one of the most powerful bannermen of the Tullys, the House could field a thousand knights and three thousand foot.

Eliana, however, didn't trust Walder Frey either.

She saw the blazon of House Karstark next, a white sunburst on black. Karstarks were big, fierce men, bearded and long-haired, with brown hair and blue-grey eyes, and favour wearing cloaks made of the pelts of seals, bears and wolves.

Next came the roaring giant, brown-haired and wearing a skin, with broken silver chains, on flame-red. House Umber of the Last Hearth. She knew they were fiercely loyal to her father.

Her eyes shifted to the silver mailed fist on a scarlet coloured blazon. House Glover of Deepwood Motte, was just another banner waving in the air.

The red stallion upon a golden escutcheon on a brown blazon, House Bracken of Stone Hedge. They weren't sworn to her house but they were sworn to her mother's house, House Tully. They once ruled the Riverlands as during the Age of Heroes, she remembered but those were a mere few of the dozens of banners staring at her.

"Where is my brother?"

Another man spoke then, "He with the other Lords, m'lady... discussing our next move." His eyes then fell on her shoulder, where he saw what look to be a hole left by an arrow. "M'lady you're injured, that needs to be treated."

But he was wrong when chanting broke out in the distance, reaching all their ears and making them all turn and frown.  _King in the North! King in the North! King in the North!_

She ignored the protests by the man, and continued along her way... but not in search for her brother any longer.

She wanted her mother.

* * *

Eliana didn't want to see Robb, not right now. It hurt too much to see her brother, knowing that he was leading all these people into a war she knew he wouldn't win - not without  _proper_ help.

She knew of tactics and strategies; ways to out-smart the enemy, tricks and plans. She always read on the past wars; the ways they fought and who prevailed and why. She was always prepared for a war, knowing she could handle herself if given the chance.

Eliana was unfamiliar with the layout of the camp, she was struggled to find the whereabouts of her mother. She'd been told that she had gone to see Jaime Lannister, wanting to see him and speak with him of some matters.

Catelyn Tully wasn't hard to find in a crowd, with her fiery auburn hair and those wondrous cerulean blues to accompany them. She'd always said her mother was unbelievably beautiful even if she was entering her thirties. She was beautiful and almost always recognizable but her mother spotted her first.

"Lia!" Catelyn exclaimed, picking up her dress and cloak trains, rushing over in a sprint.

That surprised her... Eliana was what? Twenty-three years-old and she'd never seen her mother look so relieved to see her. "My lovely daughter..." Catelyn trailed off, pulling her eldest into her arms as she wrapped her arms tightly around her thin frame. She'd missed her  _so much_ , it had been a little while since she last laid eyes on Eliana. She swore she was growing more beautiful by the day, but if she told her that the response wouldn't be positive from her.

Eliana pulled away from her mother's embrace and swallowed hard, trying to stop the tears threatening to fall from her eyes. She didn't want to cry in front of her and let her know how weak she was - but that was the human thing to do, cry. And cry she did.

Wiping away the tears falling from her daughter's eyes, Catelyn stared at her and let out a shaky breath. "Don't cry, he would not want you to cry over him - he would say you were stronger than this." She explained, wanting to make her feel better and not blame herself, knowing that was what she was doing at that moment. "He was too honourable for his own good... was it over quickly? He didn't go in pain? Your sisters didn't see did they?"

"No, he wasn't - I mean, I don't think he was..." Eliana didn't want to answer that... she couldn't but her mother asked the question and she would  _have_ to answer. She couldn't believe she e _ven_ asked her that sort of question. "It was like a knife through butter."

The words hurt but they were true.

A beat of silence.

"Mother-" Eliana began, to only be cut off by Catelyn.

Catelyn's eyes were trained on the spot by her right shoulder that was surrounding by a dark pool of blood. "Lia, what happened to you?" She questioned, her concern growing deeply, now knowing that her daughter had been hurt. "Who did this?"

Following her gaze, Eliana's eyes also fell on the hole from which the arrow had left in her shoulder. "I stumbled across a few Lannister men, I was lucky... they however, weren't." She answered casually, shrugging off her worry. Eliana stepped back properly and licked her lips, looking down briefly while gritting her teeth. "Mother, I have something to ask of you." Her usual confident voice was now quiet and reserved.

Her blue eyes narrowed with worry once again, she'd known something was up. "Which is?" She inquired with her usual steady and warm voice.

"I wish to pledge fealty to you, mother." Catelyn's face froze and Eliana saw the surprise and concern grow in her eyes, and she knew she had to explain. "I did with father, but now that he is gone I need to pledge my sword to another. If you'd allow me, I would not think of another I would rather bend my knee to." Eliana stated, wanting to do something worthy and something right.

"I did not protect him as I should of, because he wouldn't allow me to promise to risk my life for his but you, you need protecting from our enemies." She paused briefly, sighing. "I want to protect you, but you must promise me something, you will not hold me back - never. If I come face to face with Joffrey again, I will kill him."

Frowning with understanding and slight worry for her daughter's fierceness, Catelyn nodded in agreement. "I won't hold you back."

Eliana suddenly dropped to her knees, her sword sitting on the ground in front of her. She didn't care if it was muddy, she didn't care if it was raining... she wanted vengeance and she wanted Joffrey's head, and Cersei's. "Then I am yours, my lady." She vowed, bowing her head. She would protect her mother, even if she died doing so. "I will shield your back from harm, and I will give my life for yours. I swear it by the old Gods and the new."

She could see the sadness in her daughter's eyes, the shame and worthlessness. She didn't know how she'd done it; watching her own father being humiliated in front of the crowds in King's Landing. It wasn't fair, none of it was. She shouldn't have witnessed such a horror.

No child should watch their parents die.

She understood, more than anyone. Eliana had always wanted to belong somewhere, to do something that would be worth it for all the pride she held. "I swear it by the old Gods and the new." Catelyn reached out and placed her hands on either side of her face, lowering her own face before she planted her lips on her forehead. "Now, go back to the main camp while I find Robb."

Nodding, Eliana quietly moved off while her mother watched with pride in her eyes. Her daughter had grown into a fine young woman, a noble woman with a noble name to match. She cherished the happiness, knowing that Eliana was her daughter and that her daughter was a true Stark and Tully.

* * *

Before she'd even realised it, the troops had crowded around her. Their cold, worn faces looking tiredly at her. They needed morale, they needed to hear  _the_ words, she knew they needed encouragement to lift their hearts. So, she grabbed a wooden crate and clambered atop of it.

Eliana cleared her throat, all eyes fell on her and then she knew she had their full attention, and then she began to speak. "As you probably all know by now, your Liege Lord Eddard Stark is dead. They beheaded him at the High Sept of Baelor, for the entire City to bare witness." She growled, the memory of her father been beheaded flashing into her mind's eye. "An innocent man who only saw justice in what he was doing! And I call that murder! They murdered your Liege Lord, the Warden of the North!"

"He knew something that many do not... Joffrey Baratheon has no true claim to throne no matter what Cersei Lannister may say to fool the lot of you, he is not Robert Baratheon's son, any fool would know that and Ned Stark did."

She saw the frowns of confusion on their lost faces, creases forming around their tired eyes. "Joffrey Baratheon is in fact the bastard child of the Lannister twins! He has no Baratheon blood flowing through his veins. He is no stag! He is a lion!" She bellowed, glaring at nothing as she felt something she'd never felt before. "Everywhere we turn there are Lannisters! With their golden hair and smug faces, their claws deep in the skin of their allies, our foes!"

There was a pause.

"And what are Lions?!"

The crowd wasted no time in their protests and chants of angst. "Enemies!" They roared, fists flying into the air.

"I speak to you now, not as your better but as one of you..." Eliana begun again, filled with this sudden surge of power and victory... hunger even. "I don't want to be part of a Kingdom that beheads those who want justice, those who do the right things. I don't want to see another Lion interfere with our wishes. I want them dead, and they will die!" She paused quickly but only continue with her angry speech. "Not because we are stronger, because we are better!"

Cheers erupted then, more fists plunged into the air. The stamp of banner poles started to sound, followed by swords rising as well.

"And are we not northern folk?! Are we not as unconquered and unbeaten as the northern snow?!" She questioned, wanting to know they all shared the same feelings of their foes. "We do not forget, and we will not forget what they've done to us!"

" _The North remembers!_ "

Eliana nodded, drawing her sword from its sheath. "I do know one thing, we are the winter and what do we say?!" Her voice rose, like a blizzard in the night that grew around them with anticipation, growing in violence.

" _Winter is coming!_ "

"Winter is coming, and it will be one heck of a storm when we do!" Eliana exclaimed, a large smile breaking out onto her face. "I can promise that."

At that moment, the crowd forgot the King in the North, they forgot Robb Stark and remembered his sister. She was headstrong and wilful - just was they needed in a leader. And then they began to chant.

_She-wolf! She-wolf! She wolf!_

Robb turned his head to the side and saw his sister among his bannerman. He'd missed the entire thing, he wanted to know what she'd spoken to them and what had made them react in such a way. When he'd spoken earlier, they reacted well but not as well as they had with Eliana.

Catelyn, however, smiled as she saw the army cheer and her daughter boost the morale of the troops that had fallen slightly upon the news of their liege Lord's death.

"How does she do it?"

Her eyes found her son's bright blue pair, they were staring at her with disappointment. "She's of northern birth, just as you are..." Catelyn told him, her hand falling upon his steady shoulder. "She wants justice, she wants the Lannisters dead and I believe that if that doesn't happen in this war - she will do it herself, given the chance."

Robb shook his head, his auburn head of hair bouncing slightly at the movement. "But she won't - I'm the King in the North, not Lia." Robb declared, feeling a bitterness overcome him.

Sighing, Catelyn bit the inside of her cheek and then spoke with carefulness. "I think your sister will have something to say about that, Robb."

"What do you mean?"

He grabbed her arm when she made her way to the tent that had been prepared and set up for her. "How could you?" Were his words, full with hurt and betrayal - Catleyn had told him what she'd failed to.

_He heard the rickety door open, turning his head to the side while feeling his thirstiness rise - he expected Varys but he was surprised to see that it was not him. Ned squinted as his eyes tried to focus on her face, and when they did he felt his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. "Lia..." He let out softly, swallowing hard._

_Quickly, she rushed to his side and opened the waterskin in her hand and handed it to him. "Father, what have they done to you..." She looked at his face, his tired eyes with his warm smile that had magically appeared. "How could they?"_

_"I let the truth get the better of me, I couldn't deny the truth any longer, Lia."_

_Eliana shook her head, "You should have, then you wouldn't be in this horrible mess." She stated, certain that if he'd stayed quiet he would be satin the dungeons waiting for his life to end. "I only wish I could have done something sooner - protected you as I should..." But she was stopped when he took her hand in his._

_"You must return to your mother, tell her of what has happened when they've done what they wanted to me." Ned told her quietly, his throat sore and hoarse. He knew she would refuse and that she would want to kill them right there and then. "You must promise me, Eliana, despite what you want. You must promise me."_

_It was her turn to swallow hard then._ _She could leave him here to die alone, he was her father - the only man she'd ever loved. It would kill her but she knew she would have to obey his wishes._

_"Promise by the old Gods and the new, promise me Eliana."_

_"I- I promise, by the old Gods and the new."_

_Ned nodded and pressed her hand to his lips, "Then, you must take my place until Robb learns of the wisdom a true Lord must have. He will want revenge and then war will begin - We can't have that. I want you to teach him that, and when your mother decides the time is right - then it will be his turn." He stopped talking again, taking a quick swig of the water. "You will do me proud, you will make all the right choices because you are good and just."_

"They were father's words, why  _would_  I say something no true? Why  _would_  mother?" Eliana pressed, ripping her arm free from Robb's strong grasp. He just refused to listen to things he didn't like. "He wanted me to teach you the rights and wrongs."

But Robb wasn't listening to her, "You're my sister!" He shouted, chasing after his sister still and only angering her more.

"And what? You just expect me to give you my sword?!" She questioned, stifling cold laugh while turning to look at him. "It belongs rightfully to mother, not you. I will protect her - you have  _your_  bannermen."

"I need your support in this."

Eliana sighed and looked down. She couldn't lie to him and tell him what he wanted to hear. They'd always trusted each other and here they were quarreling in the rain. "You won't win, you're a  _boy_. You don't know what you're getting yourself into, you're fighting experienced men in battle -"

"I've won every battle so far!" Robb cut her off with a surge of pride and determined to prove her wrong so he could take bite at her.

"So far! That's the child speaking." She backed away from him, shaking her head. "Come talk to me when you've become a proper man." She didn't want to hurt her brother, but she knew if she told the truth, he would understand what he needed to. He needed to know that there were other important things beside vengeance and victory.

Robb felt his anger rise within him, simply knowing that Eliana wasn't following him the way he wanted her to. "I am a man!" He defended his honour, he wouldn't let her insult him so  _she_ could get what she wanted.

"You could've fooled me!"

He lost it then, he was sick of her remarks and not trusting him. "Well, if you'd stayed by father's side like you promised instead of fleeing then perhaps he'd still have his head. But no, he's got his head on a spike thanks to you..." Robb stopped himself before he truly went to far.

That hurt her properly then. He'd stabbed her and twisted the blade in deep.

"And he would have called you stupid! A boy doesn't go to war! You call yourself a wise King! A King does not look war, he does not start one!"

Robb pushed her back with his hand, "Take that back, now." He pointed his finger at her, before sending her another quick shove.

Eliana stepped forward and took hold of the straps that held up his cloak. She pulled him to the right and then let go which easily sent Robb to the floor, she then forced her fist against his face in a moment of anger and irritation. Robb, acting purely on retaliation, hit her back. Of course, he hit harder but she was strong as well. Stronger than she looked.

They'd brawled many times before, this was no different. Although Eliana was at least a few years older than Robb, they appeared to be joined at the hip most of the time but this fight was absolutely no different.

They continued until a loud, enraged voice sounded. "Stop it! Stop it both of you!" With all her strength she could find, Catelyn pulled Eliana off her brother, making her stand on her feet. "What do you both think you're playing at? We're at war and you're both brawling in the mud!" The pair fell silent at her shouting, letting the eyes fall upon their muddy boots.

"Well?"

Eliana sighed, rolling her eyes before drawling out her words with the hint of boredom. "Well  _what_ , mother?"

"Who started this and why?" Catelyn demanded, not fulling understanding her children's disagreement with each other but also knowing that it had been serious by how quickly the fight had escalated.

"Mother, it was my fault."

Eliana was shocked, Robb never took the blame for anything. But, now he had admitted to starting the fight when she knew she was the one who had started it. He met her gaze and shrugged innocently with a small smile playing at his lips.

"I want both of you to apologise." Catleyn spoke, glancing between her two children, noticing the tension between them. " _Now_."

Knowing that defiling her would have no effect whatsoever, Robb nodded and gave in. "I'm sorry for insulting you, Lia. I didn't mean a word I spoke... I was upset, I felt betrayed and hurt by father's choice." He explained, knowing that it was true. He wanted to be father's favourite, he wanted to be in her position and have his entire love and favour... but that was Eliana's gift.

Catelyn set her blue eyes on Eliana, and waited silently for her to apologise but when she didn't, she rose an eyebrow in her direction. "Lia?" She questioned, knowing how stubborn her daughter could be at times. All wolves were hot-tempered at the best of times.

And she was right.

"I don't apologise to boys who call themselves Kings." There it was, the bitterness. The Stark bitterness, they all had it and inherited it through generations and it was a sour bitterness. A horrible one.

Robb's fists tightened at her words, moving toward Eliana again but Catelyn forced her hand against his chest, stopping him. Catelyn rolled her eyes, stepping in front of Robb to make sure he didn't do any more damage. "Eliana."

"Don't  _Eliana_  me."

Her impatience got the better of her then, and Catelyn's hand crossed her cheek in a quick, swift movement. The pain wasn't instant but it wasn't long before she felt her cheek begin to throb and tingle with a strange sensation.

Stunned, Eliana's eyes stilled as they found her mother's. She saw the realisation rise in those Tully eyes of hers but it was too late, she was already gone. She could hear her mother calling her name and saying that she was sorry in the distance as she drew further away from where they stood.

One thing she never tolerated was being struck by her parents. Her father never touched her in such a way, her mother however, that was an entirely different story... Catelyn didn't do it very often but she still didn't agree with it.

From where he sat far from the camp, Jaime Lannister watched the three Stark's fight like a wild pack of dogs. They were wild wolves but by the Gods, was it an entertaining show to watch from where he sat. "You're wild, little wolf!" He boasted with a mocked howl, smiling to himself as he saw her turn his way. But then his eyes widened when saw her draw her sword and then she was stalking towards where he sat in the mud.

He didn't think she would confront him, he didn't think she was confident enough but obviously she was.

He slowly rose his head when he heard her footsteps move through the thick mud and closer to where he'd been issued away from the camp. He cursed the Gods and the Seven Hell's for his stupid imprisonment, he'd never been defeated that quickly before - he was known as the 'Kingslayer', and he couldn't even stop his own men from being killed by an apparent  _King of the North_.

He frowned though, when he spotted the faint red mark rising on her cheek which led him to one conclusion. Catelyn had struck her. Without thinking, he let his thoughts get the better of him, "She struck you?"

Eliana shrugged, her eyes falling on her sword. "I get a bit carried away at times - she doesn't often accept my opinions or my stubbornness." She admitted as if it was no problem at all... as if she were used to it, that she knew she probably deserved it. "She thinks I'm irresponsible and reckless - I know she secrectly blames me for my father's death, she thinks I should've acted sooner - I can see it in her eyes..."

He continued to stare at her, confusion lacing his muddy features.

"What?" Eliana asked, knowing what he was thinking, exactly what he was thinking. She couldn't hit her own mother, that would truly make her a monster. "I can't hit her back, she's my mother." Her voice was soft and held a joking tone to it.

Through the mud covering his face, he glanced up to see the dark yet kind face of the eldest Stark child. She had always been a mystery to him, from when she'd almost ran him down with her horse and when protecting her father in King's Landing, not that he really remembered the scene because he was too stunned.

But he remembered cutting her, they fought briefly but the fight was unfair. One of his men had grabbed her and restrained her but Jaime  _had_  taken advantage of that, and cut her along the neck. The scar was visible to him, it glistened in the light, shining a pinky-red shade. It wasn't as ugly as what he could've done, he considered himself generous - choosing to not mark her to the point of sheer embarrassment.

Deep down though, Jaime respected her - he didn't know why, he just did? Jaime didn't want to, bu he couldn't help but do so. She deserved respect, she wasn't weak like the other women.

He knew that everyone described Eliana Stark as mischievous but she he knew she was just "wolf-blooded" - headstrong, wilful, courageous and hot-tempered just like her aunt Lyanna. But she also shared her mother's characteristics; she was proud, strong, kind, and generous. She was seen as honourable and upright by acquaintances but she was her father's daughter; having a good sense of honour and justice, and that seemed to get the better of her.

Jaime shook his head slightly, remembering her earlier statement. "No, not that." He spoke which surprised her. "How could he blame you for dear ol' Ned's death? Did you behead him? Did you force him to commit treason?" Jaime pressed, moving onto his knees and see her properly but she moved her sword to his throat. His breath hitched and he gulped, his Adam's apple skimming across the ice-cold steel.

Eliana sighed and sheathed her sword and Jaime relaxed. "We Starks are attracted to treason like flies are to a dead corpse." She joked weakly from which he sent her a small smile.

"You were right though."

Her brows rose then, intrigued by what he meant. "Right about what?" She was intrigued now, rubbing her wrists before she sunk to the floor to look him dead in the eye properly.

Jaime licked his lips, "He is a boy, a boy who hasn't tasted defeat." Jaime agreed with her earlier words but he didn't want to become best friends with the traitors. "And you, well... you're a little girl."

At that, her hand fell on her sword. "And you lost to that  _boy_." Were her sharp words, her sharp, vicious words.

Jaime fell dead-silent - like he'd just be struck by her sword already, which of course was sat perfectly still in its sheath. He was being played at his own game by a Stark who was at least nine or ten years younger than he was, and by the Gods, was she good at it.

"And I thought your family words were,  _hear me roar,_  all I hear is a mouse squeaking for his father to come rescue him."

Jaime nodded before opening his mouth to finally reply with something. "And all I hear is a frightened little girl, whose father's head is sat firmly- " but he couldn't finish his sentence because a large pair of glistening white teeth were bared, followed by a dangerously low growl. He tried to push himself away from the beast but the post at his back stopped his retreat.

With its bright, icy eyes and pure black fur, Shadow emerged from the darkness and easily towered over the fallen Lannister Lion.

He hated direwolves, he hated them. And he also hated Starks but he didn't mean what he'd said.

Eliana stared at him, her eyes hardening into ice. "Don't upset me..." She warned him, as Shadow drew nearer and nearer. "Not when you  _were_  doing so well."

"Forgive me..." Jaime rushed out, sighing deeply and trying to set himself right... he should've thought before he opening his mouth to say something he never really meant, despite her being a Stark. "That was unworthy of me."

She silently rose and turned away from him. He wasn't worth her time, his words may have been his only weapon but she had weapons too. And many more than Ser Jaime Lannister did at that particular moment. "Well, you fit right in Ser." Eliana announced, clicking her tongue and then Shadow moved closer towards his cowering face. "We're all unworthy here."


	4. Innocence?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Your heart is free, have the courage to follow it." She's a Wolf of Winterfell... wolf blood courses through her raging body. A wolf is untameable; she's as unconquered and unbeaten as the northern snow. No man can tame a Wolf of Winterfell; the Red Viper has tried just like the golden Lion... but still, the lone Wolf rages on.
> 
> Allies are people of extreme values, but when Catelyn discovers her daughter conversing with the enemy, Jaime Lannister... the beginning of a feud could be just over the horizon.

Dawn broke over the camp, awakening the troops to an early morning full of an eerie chill while they allowed their eyes to slowly adjust, only to see their King already on the move.

Robb, wearing a small wry smile, marched through the rows of tents while pulling along a boy with him. He knew Eliana didn't want to speak to him or even see him for that matter, but he knew what she was like. They used to play this game all the time as children. Robb needed her to do something for him, which he knew she wouldn't be happy with and already knowing that it would take a lot of bargaining to get her to agree.

In his hand, he held a welcoming warm bowl of freshly made stew especially for her by their mother; another bribe.

The boy next to him couldn't have been eighteen? He was tall and lean, his long hair falling across his eyes, making it look as though he could barely even see properly. He was a few inches smaller than Robb, and not as stocky.

Robb had already checked her tent to find that she wasn't in there, by the state of it, it looked as though she hadn't even slept in the bed provided. That worried him. Eliana could go for days on end without sleep, but too much sleep deprivation and everything begins to go wrong.

He heard her shouting first, and then the sharp slashing sound belonging to her sword.

She was doing what he'd done less than a day ago. She was angry, and upset. Just like him. They were more similar than they both really knew, they both let their emotions get the best of them.

Robb thrusted the bowl into the boy's hands quickly. "Lia!" Robb caught her attention easily, and he saw her head turn in his direction and then the look of annoyance flashed across her face before she turned away and continued with hacking a tree. He rolled his eyes, quickly approached her. He pulled back her shoulder, and ripped the sword from her grasp which didn't make it any easier for him.

"What on seven hells do you think you're doing?!"

Robb sighed, "Lia, this is my new squire... Willum." He announced, knowing that she would ask what happen to Olyvar Rivers straight away. "I know what you're thinking -  _where's Olyvar?_ It seems he prefer's the company of Lord Umber and has made himself his squire and that grumbling old goat just agreed... but Willum here w _as_ a Page, now he's a squire for me at the age of eighteen."

"Don't let Greatjon Umber hear you name him a goat..." Eliana's eyes then landed on the boy stood slightly behind Robb, with his hair blinding his sight. His face wasn't as nearly as developed as it should be for the age of eighteen. He wasn't that old, fifteen at most, sixteen if pushing. "Hello, Will?" She spoke, completely forgetting her anger and instead, sent her brother a rather odd look.

"M- m'lady."

"You will train him for me."

That made her anger resurface then. "What?!" She exclaimed, her face hardening immediately. "I am not your - your servant! I am your sister, I'm here to help you and protect mother not be yours to order around as you will."

Robb took a hold of her shoulder and pulled her to the side quickly. "Lia, all you need to do is make him skilled with a sword, mace, lance and spear - then it's all done. That's all I want you to do, and then you will fight alongside me when we take back what is ours. When we seek justice and honour - when we take down Joffrey and the Lannisters." Robb stated, a small smile forming on his thin lips. "Will you join me, not as a member of my war council but as my sister?"

She was tired of fighting him.

She to admit it, he was reckless but he'd spoken careful words - words he'd thought over and not just spoken like usual. He was learning, not very fast but effectively. At the end of the day, Robb was her brother and she wanted to take back what was theirs. They deserved it, they needed it and they wanted it. If they were to win this, they would win this together. "I will not bend my knee to you, brother, but I will follow you and offer you all the wisdom of my words as often as I can as some hope of guidance."

Robb's smile only grew. He'd won.

Eliana, realising what he was thinking, pushed him back and rolled her eyes. "Shut up, you fool." She laughed, when he pulled her into a tight hug and ruffled her head of hair.

"Love you too, Lia." He vowed, taking the bowl from Willum's hands and passing it over to Eliana, "Compliments of mother, she's sorry for well... you know." Robb shrugged, with an awkward look on his face now.

Willum shifted nervously when Robb left him alone with the most beautiful woman in the North. He had heard stories of her beauty and wisdom but in person, all that seemed a dream... her in person easily beat all the stories by far.

"Wiilum, before I even begin to teach you anything please go and get a decent hair cut so I know you actually have eyes." Eliana ordered him, seeing his head bob up and down before he scurried off in a rather odd rush. "No need to hurry back!" She knew that the boy wasn't who he was pretending to be, he had never been a page before he'd become a squire - there was no absolute way that was possible, the boy was hopeless. She would have to work hard with him, and she wouldn't waste her time but she would get him to learn.

It wouldn't be an easy job but he seemed teachable enough.

* * *

Turning on the spot, Eliana's eyes fell on the smith and she quickly began stalking over to where he stood working quietly. When he heard her approach however, he head shot up and he bowed it soon after. "My lady Eliana... to what do I owe you pleasure of your presence so early?" He questioned, setting down his tools and clasping his hands together tightly.

"You've heard my brother has acquired himself a new squire - I fear the boy is hopeless, nevertheless, a squire needs a sword." She explained with a composed look on her face as she spoke to him. "If you have any free time, I would very much like and so would Willum, if you would care to craft him a sword of his own."

Upon hearing her request, the smith nodded frantically. "Certainly, my lady. I will have it ready for you in few days time. Do you require a particular pommel?"

Eliana shook her head, finally swallowing a spoonful of the stew. "No, just a sword will do." She replied, her eyes falling on the hopeless form of Jaime. She didn't know what it was, but she couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him in some way.

She grumbled under her breath, walking towards him. Eliana thought herself to be the only person who actually attempted to make a civil conversation with Jaime despite him being the enemy.  _He would die anyway._  "Have they fed you yet, Ser Jaime?!" She called, knowing how hungry he probably was by now.

At the mention of food, Jaime's head shot into the air and his eyes focused on the Wolf in front of him but they soon found the bowl of steaming stew in her hands. His growing hair swung around in the air while he shook his head. "Sadly, no but I feel a bit peckish I suppose... is there any partridge? If you're offering that is?" Jaime replied, wanting to eat something desperately. "Or..." He gazed at her form and dropped his gaze.

Eliana nodded, sipping on another spoonful of the stew to taunt him. "You're lucky I have a sense of humour, Ser, otherwise I would just let you starve..." She contemplated before surprising him. Without another word, she placed the stew into his own hands and then took a seat on the mopping-wet ground and sighed.

Unsure of whether to trust her or not, not knowing whether it was some trick, Jaime discarded the spoon and slowly began to drain the bowl of the stew. He smiled to himself when he heard Eliana's remark at his action.

"Ugh, men... you're all the same."

He lowered the bowl and frowned, "I hardly think so..." Jaime disagreed with his smile still showing. "Not all men are Lannisters." He stated, seeing her roll her eyes and shake her head when his arrogance surfaced through his use of words.

"Gods, you _are_ arrogant."

Jaime frowned, "And you're not?" He inquired, raising an eyebrow. She looked at him, and simply shook her head with a small smile playing at her lips. "What are you smiling at, Stark?"

"Nothing."

Jaime sat up, placing the bowl down on the ground. "Tell me." He pressed, wanting to know what she was smiling at... wondering if it was something he'd said or something she was thinking. She opened her mouth to speak but it closed when she saw who was storming towards them.

"Oh, the joy of the Gods..."

"Get up." Came the voice of Catelyn Tully, wearing her usual unhappy look while sporting her usual attire. Her stance was the same, hands positioned at her hips with a frown pulling at her face.

"What if I like it down here?" Eliana tested the water, not really wanting to hold a conversation with her mother at that particular moment. "What if I enjoy Ser Jaime's company?"

They both saw Catelyn's jaw tighten, "He is our  _prisoner_ , he pushed your  _brother_  from the tower... he tried to have him  _killed_." Catelyn exaggerated several words to try to get her to move but failed miserably.

"I'm not stupid, I know what Ser Jaime has done in his life. I know he's a prick and that he's done bad things... however, we're not all innocent mother. I'm not, and I hardly believe you are as well." Eliana spoke, sighing. "But you're forgetting one vital piece of information mother, Bran is not dead." She challenged, rising to her feet. "Yes, Jaime may have pushed him from that tower... but he shouldn't have been climbing in the first place, you told him no as did I." She stared at her mother, "All that matter's is that Bran is alive, not whom I talk to or sit with." And then she sat back down again. "We're in the clasps of war here."

Catelyn had fallen silent, unable to get a single word out.

" _And_  I actually prefer talking with someone who doesn't attempt to stutter out  _m'lady_..." Jaime laughed at that but he was soon silenced by the glare Catelyn shot him. "It's rather nice."

"Well, I see you ate the stew I made you." Catelyn noted quietly, glad she'd done something right. "Did you like it?"

Eliana clicked her tongue and turned to Jaime, "Did you like it, Ser Jaime?" She questioned, knowing fully well she was treading deeper into dangerous waters... but once she had started, she always found it difficult to stop.

"It was beautiful Lady Stark, you outdid yourself."

Catelyn's heart sunk slowly, "Did you  _even_ try it, Lia?" Catelyn pressed, anxiousness getting the better of her.

"Yes, I did but it seems that Robb has resorted to starving Jaime... how's that fair exactly?"

"He's our  _enemy_ , Eliana." Catelyn bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes, "Not our guest."

Eliana nodded and folded her arms over her chest, "And how exactly do you propose we get the girls back if he starves to death, any suggestions?" The bitterness had returned, the horrible bitterness that left a horrible stinging sensation. "No... okay then."

Jaime looked down, noticing the tension immediately but he couldn't deny the entertainment he was receiving from it.

"Why are you siding with him?" Catelyn asked out of desperation.

Eliana closed her eyes and let out a long-held breath, "I don't pick sides, I never have. I'm my own person, mother, and I don't agree with Robb's way that's all." Eliana said honestly, swallowing hard.

"You swore fealty to me." Catelyn stepped towards her, wanting to get her as far away from that retched man.

She nodded, "Indeed I did, but not so it could be used as a weapon." Her voice was rising now, getting louder and louder by the second.

"Why can't you just listen to me?" Catelyn blurted, tears forming at her eyes as she saw the concern rise in Eliana's eyes. "You're my eldest child, I love you but you won't let me, you won't listen to me. Why?  _Why?_ "

"It's no use crying over spilt milk, mother." Eliana paused, standing up quickly. "I'm not a child anymore, you can't shield me from everything that goes bump in the night... I can handle myself, father saw to that, remember?"

"You're still my innocent child."

Eliana winced, and bit the inside of her cheek. "Not quite as innocent as I was." She admitted with a simple shrug of her shoulders. She'd forgotten to mention that small forgotten detail to her mother although she'd told her father soon after it had occurred... she just never really knew how to.

That made Catelyn stop, her heart froze in panic. "You're - you're no longer innocent?" Her voice was barely audible but Eliana heard the words that fell from her lips in a mere whisper.

"Ugh, why must you call it that?" Eliana questioned, seeing the amused look on Jaime's face from the corner of her eye.  _How could he enjoy this? Because he's a Lannister, that's how..._  "I've have been in an intimate situation with a man."

"What?!"

Eliana scratched the side of her head, "And quite frankly, I don't understand what all the fuss is about?" She wondered to herself, frowning at her own question and then sighing. She looked at Catelyn and sighed again. "Mother, it was always going to happen someday... just a little sooner than you might have expected."

"Who?" Was Catelyn's next question to pester Eliana with, "Who with?"

Laughter sounded then, and Eliana began shaking her head. "I'm sorry but there's absolutely no way I'm going to tell you that." Eliana explained, knowing that that was the truth and that she had chosen to not tell her mother.

Still taken by the silence, Jaime had now found that this hadn't been as entertaining as he originally thought...  _it was fantastic!_  It was a mother/daughter slaying match of verbal abuse to one another, well almost verbal abuse, but not quite. "Oh, don't spoil the fun, Lia.  _Answer the question..._ " He whined, pulling a face to see what reaction he would get from it.

But he didn't get one because Catelyn had gone. She'd turned her back and charged off in some direction away from the pair of them. She couldn't tolerate her daughter's rebellious and defiant behaviour, not to mention how hostile she'd become in a short space of time as well. Eliana to her, was changing fast, and not to her liking... she wanted to have the relationship a mother and daughter should have.

Catelyn had that with Sansa, but not with Arya and not with Eliana.

Eliana stared after her mother and shook her head. If she could speak to her without being interrupted, she knew that they would get somewhere that would benefit both of them and help re-build their collapsing relationship. It was just, just so hard for her to get the words out when there was a chance Catleyn wouldn't listen to her like she'd want her too.

She'd never had a strong bond with her mother, it was with her father that she had established the proper relationship; a trusting, healthy one. One that would only strengthen and grow but that was all dead now.

"She absolutely detests me."

Jaime shrugged, before concluding her sentence. "And you hate her..."

"I don't  _hate_ her, hate's a very strong word." Eliana defended herself, furrowing her brow. "She just makes my life a lot harder with her constant questioning." She soon sunk to the floor again and began grumbling under her breath to herself, shaking her head. "Her problem is that she worries much more than  _he_ ever did, and it's smothering..."

Smiling to himself, Jaime chuckled. "You do realise that you do that a lot, don't you? If you continue to talk to yourself people may question your sanity..." He teased, looking to the floor slowly.

Eliana closed her eyes, "She expects me to tell her everything - my entire life story when she's been there for most of it." She paused and mentally hit herself out of frustration and annoyance. She shouldn't have treated her mother in such a way, especially after everything that's happened to them all in such little time. It wasn't fair to Catelyn and Eliana knew that but she was hurting too.

They all were.

A beat of silence passed between them.

Jaime turned his head to her and frowned suddenly, "So..." He trailed, trying to hold back his growing smirk. "Who did you share a bed with by the way?" His voice had attracted an innocent tone to it but Jaime was far from innocent.

He had no innocence in him.

She glowered at him for a couple of seconds and rose to her feet once more, "Don't make me starve you, mouse." Eliana warned him with a dark voice along with her misty eyes growing dark, too. Before she walked away though, she turned back to face him. "Maybe one day I'll tell you - that's if you don't die during this which would be an  _awful_ shame."

His emerald eyes stared after while she strode away from him. He still wore his smile, yes, a smile. His smirk had disappeared and transformed into a soft smile... he didn't know why, but it had something to do with her actually acknowledging his existence in all of this. She also didn't refer to him as the  _Kingslayer_ , which was a relief for him. He hated that name.

She didn't judge him either, he knew she didn't like him but she didn't judge him - and that made him respect her somewhat. She was different, but he just couldn't seem to place the difference... he did know one thing.

The next few days would be fun; he would get to watch her train that hopeless  _squire_ of her brother's and watch him fail over and over. He  _couldn't_ contain his anxiousness or intrigue... not because of Willum, he wanted to see if she was as good as they say she was.

He  _wanted_  to see what Eliana was hiding from him.


	5. How to train your squire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Your heart is free, have the courage to follow it." She's a Wolf of Winterfell... wolf blood courses through her raging body. A wolf is untameable; she's as unconquered and unbeaten as the northern snow. No man can tame a Wolf of Winterfell; the Red Viper has tried just like the golden Lion... but still, the lone Wolf rages on.
> 
> Patience isn't something she had been gifted with, but Eliana tries...

Her fingers fell across the strings of the lute in her hands as a soft murmur escaped its lips and slowly rose into the air. She continued to play the stringed instrument until Willum coughed and caught her attention. "You won't let my brother die will you, Willum?" She asked, not bothering to lift her eyes to look at him.

Willum, with his now short, spiky maroon hair, was stood awkwardly in the middle of a grassy area in the camp as he struggled to tighten his armour. "N- no, m'lady." He stuttered, trying to pay her as much as attention as possible, not that she was even looking at him with interest.

Eliana looked up then and rolled her eyes, " _My lady_." She corrected, emphasising the proper way and sighing. She placed the lute on the muddy ground before she rose to her feet. "You need to learn how to speak properly, Willum. You're a squire now, you need to address your betters properly." She moved to help him tighten his armour, sick of hearing him huffing and puffing. " _Now_ , you won't let my brother die will you?"

Willum shook his head, "No, I will not my lady."

"Good, now tell me the truth." Eliana said, moving back to the wooden crate she had sat on before she'd gone to help him.

His small eyes widened in realisation that he'd been sussed out so easily, however, he managed to regain his composure and frown. "W- what truth?" But his voice let him down as his stutter appeared through his poor choice of words.

She smiled to herself and took in a deep breath of air, "How old are you, Willum?" Eliana pressed, staring up at him with accusing eyes. She wanted him to break and squeal like a pig, telling her everything. "You're not eighteen - you do not share the same age as my brother. Lying will get you nowhere with me." Her voice had hardened and it held a dark tone to it - almost threateningly.

Willum didn't speak. He didn't even move, or blink.

"Your face isn't as nearly as developed as it should be for someone of the age of eighteen." The statement was simple, true but unnerving. "I'm not stupid, you know. So, the truth?"

It looked like he was in shock.

She clicked her tongue and picked up the lute again. "Or, I can sit here all day long,  _boy_." She warned him with her eyes and words. "I'll play a song while we wait - any requests? I'm rather good at- "

But then he cracked under the pressure. "Fine. Fine!" Willum started forward, with a pleading look rising in his eyes. "But you can't tell King Robb, you can't." He protested, reaching for her arm but she moved herself away from him.

"Why shouldn't I?"

Willum sighed and cradled his head in his hands. "You're right; I'm not eighteen years old... I've only just turned sixteen. I lied, because I was told to lie so I could have a better life for myself... is there any harm in that?"

"You lied to my brother." Eliana informed him with the obvious. "You haven't been a Page, and you're not a Squire. Robb will want to know of this..."

"W- what are you going to do, my lady?"

Eliana shrugged and rose to her feet. "I don't know - let's see if your training can make up for it,  _boy_."

* * *

Her hunch was right; she was always right.

Willum was hopeless. He couldn't fight, he could barely hold a sword. Everything was wrong.

His instinct.

The way he held the sword.

His attack.

Everything.

"Let's try this again! I'm really trying here, but it seems like you just don't want to learn the Westerosi Fighting style..."

He turned to the side, holding the sword steady in his right hand and taking in slow, deep breaths. "I can do this..." He muttered over and over, "I'm ready, my lady!" He announced with a slight nod of his head.

"We've been at this all day, and well... you're doing very well at the moment."

"Give me one more chance, I can do it... I know I can."

His words were familiar, she'd heard them before except they'd been spoken by another. Someone she was close to but she could help but think back to the memory the words had unlocked from within her.

* * *

" _Jon, are you sure you want to do this?_ " Came Robb's voice, as he strode to his brother's side. He couldn't hide his smirk, seeing Jon looking skittish and regretful as he stood with his sword in hand. Behind Robb, Theon Greyjoy snickered silently, knowing that Jon would never win against Eliana Stark.

Jon licked his lips nervously, " _Not really, but she was being persistent-_ "

" _And so you gave in._ " Theon concluded, rolling his eyes darkly. " _You idiot._ "

Robb shook his head, " _No, no. Theon, you have to admire Jon,_ " He paused, staring at him briefly before carrying on. " _He'll be the first member of our family to face the wrath of Eliana Stark but he will be unlikely the last..._ " The two then burst into laughter while Jon did his best to block them out.

On the other side of the courtyard, Eliana stood with Bran, Rickon and Arya. The three youngest Stark children were the watchers and cheerers for their older sister; they knew she was the better fighter out of herself and Jon.

" _Don't go easy on him._ " Arya warned and she received a warm smiled from Eliana.

Bran nodded eagerly, " _Defeat him, Lia._ "

" _If you can't, Shaggydog will help._ " Rickon added, stroking his pup at his side.

" _You ready Jon?!_ " Eliana called to her brother, and he nodded but still looked sullen and drawn. " _Oh, do cheer up! You should be proud to face such a worthy opponent._ " She teased playfully while drawing her sword from its place in her scabbard.

At first it started out slow, Jon's blows were predictable but sudden. They were powerful and frequent, however with Eliana, it was much different.

Jon wasn't completely certain when she was going to strike or when she was even going to make her move. She was slowly making him panic as he had no idea when she would choose to attack him. She was unpredictable.

And he hated it. This was the exact reason he refused to go up against her.

However, they met each other's blows, their swords whirling through the air. As he sent more powerful strikes against her own sword, she easily deflected the strikes which showed her years of experience.

Although Eliana was by far the better swordsman or woman in this case, it was hard to tell the difference as Jon was also very skilled in that area. Without warning, he struck downwards, aiming for her legs. But he was shocked when she brought her sword down quickly enough to deflect the blow, and he attempted to force her back.

They both knew he would always be stronger than her; but she was far more light and quicker on her feet and moved herself out-of-the-way while he tried to force her back.

Eliana sidestepped, avoiding a blow meant for her shoulder. Jon cursed under his breath and whirled to face her, blade up and ready.

She then went to bring her blade down on her brother's shoulder, but he parried her quickly, almost struggling to do so. Jon then came at her with a complex form and luckily she'd mastered those long before he had.

She ducked and dodged the blade, although it clipped her own and it fell to the stone below before she disappeared from Jon's front view. He turned quickly, searching for his opponent, only to pause when he met her gaze.

His dark eyes trailed downwards and froze when he what she'd done. His sword, not made from Valyrian steel but still sharp, was trapped in her hands. She was pressing hard against the metal, hard enough so he could not move it.

Still stunned with shock, Jon didn't know what to do with himself. And just like that, his feet were taken from beneath him and he hit the solid stone hard.

Eliana reached down and grabbed his sword, moving towards Jon and holding it a little way away from his throat. They stared at each other, before she lowered it and offered him a hand.

Cautiously, not knowing if it was some trick or she was being nice to him, he took her hand and allowed her to haul him to his feet. Soon after, his sword was returned to him and she stepped back. " _You did well._ " She announced, placing her hand on his shoulder.

Jon closed his eyes, knowing what she would say next. " _But not well enough._ " They finished together and she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Jon looked back to see Robb and Theon wearing large smirks, and he could only assume that they were making fun of his defeat.

" _Robb Stark and Theon Greyjoy,_ " Eliana called to the couple while they amused themselves. " _Let's see who's the better swordsman out of the both of you, and then we can snicker at the less fortunate._ "

* * *

Eliana smiled, offering the boy a helping hand. Deep down, she knew he could do it... she knew it. 

Willum returned the smile while she hauled him to his feet. "Thank you." He murmured, patting the dust off himself.

"You did well, Will." Eliana commented, handing him back his sparring sword and taking a swig of water from her waterskin. She offered it him as he soon took it from her hand. "We'll still need to continue with the lessons; you've got to master the mace and lance as well yet."

Willum pulled the skin away from his lips with a frown.  _Why is she smiling?_ "What are you smiling at, my lady?" He asked, realising she'd never smiled in front of him since their meeting.

Eliana sighed and shrugged, "You remind me of my brother is all... he was hopeless when it came to fighting as well but he learned and got better."

"You mean you trained King Robb?"

"I have four brothers, Will."

Willum nodded in understanding. "So, which one do I remind you of?" He pressed, wanting to know. He was happy that he reminded her of a member of her family, for the first time in a long time while he was happy with what he had achieved in such a short period of time.

Eliana sighed, "My bastard brother." She answered truthfully.

"You have a bastard brother?"

"Yes, and his name is Jon." Eliana replied, regretting saying what she'd said now. She knew he was judging Jon because he was a bastard, everyone did. And she hated it. "He's a man of the Night's Watch now."

"Really?" Willum questioned, surprised by the news. "He must be a man of honour then, just like your father."

She tensed at the mention of her father, it was still raw.  _The pain doesn't go away, you just have to make room for it..._ Ned once told her. It was the truth, it still hurt so much. "Don't bring him up... you have  _no_  right." She unsheathed her sword, twirling it through the air and aiming it at his neck.

From where he sat now in a pen that he was sharing with one of his unfortunate comrades for the time being, Jaime wore a small smile, satisfied with her fighting style and skill. She was as good as they said, better even. She took down the boy easily, it didn't even look as though she was trying either. Eliana was now threatening the boy with her sword.

"You can keep staring all you want, Kingslayer..." The fallen Lannister soldier advised quietly, "She'll never spare you a second glance, especially not in that way. She's the beauty of the North." He continued to speak to Jaime with a longing look in his eyes. "Her brother's the  _young wolf_  and she's  _the beauty_. He'll kill you if you touch her, any of us."

Jaime shot the man a spiteful look, "I don't desire her in that way... I think she's easy to taunt and wind up. That's what I like about her... what's even your name if you have one?"

"Harold..." He answered quickly, "I'll tell you something, I'd let her do things to me." Harold mused to himself with the glint still in his eyes. "Do you know she had a paramour while she visited Dorne?"

That caught Jaime by utter surprise then. He did not take her for the type of person to sleep with a man and accept an illicit relationship with him... unless it wasn't a man. No, she liked men, she  _had_  to like men. "S- she had a paramour? Who?"

"How on the seven hells am I supposed to know who? It could be any of those snakes..." Harold spat at him.

Jaime shook his head, it had to be someone of importance. "No, she seems the fussy type to me... where did she stay when she was there?" He pestered him, throwing him an annoyed glance before trying to rack his head for any ideas on who it could be.

"Who do you think I am?" Harold stared at him like he was stupid, "Some sort of story-teller? I don't give a shit."

Jaime had stopped listening to him by then, he couldn't dismiss the fact that he was hungry for sex. He would lust after any woman if it meant he could fulfill his need - but no women would match Cersei. "I haven't been with a woman in over a year... do you reckon she'd be willing if I was polite enough?" He sighed, letting his head fall back against the post that was propped up behind him.

"You'd have a better chance of bedding her direwolf."


	6. You fool...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Your heart is free, have the courage to follow it." She's a Wolf of Winterfell... wolf blood courses through her raging body. A wolf is untameable; she's as unconquered and unbeaten as the northern snow. No man can tame a Wolf of Winterfell; the Red Viper has tried just like the golden Lion... but still, the lone Wolf rages on.
> 
> Eliana turns to Jaime for advice and Robb is at a loss...

The same cocky smirk crawled onto the Lannister lion's face as he watched the Stark girl approach him, holding a bowl of broth in her hands for him to eat. "You're my saviour, Lia." He chimed, gazing up at her and batting his eyelashes comically. "Oh," She forced the bowl into his hands, "How will I ever repay you, valiant knight?"

Eliana rolled her eyes. "Mock all you want, Lannister." Her voice was somewhat quiet this morning which he wasn't quite used to.

Jaime noted that she looked more tired than she had done the past couple of days. "Have you been sleeping? Have you been worrying about me out here all alone in the cold?" He jested, tilting his head. "I should hope not."

"Training my brother's squire has proven to be much harder and tiring than I originally thought."

Jaime nodded, "So I've seen."

She sighed, "At least you're seeing what I'm seeing..." Eliana trailed off but continued nonetheless. "He was doing well but now he seems to just be getting worse. The boy's an idiot. A complete fool."

"When a battle comes, that boy will be running the opposite way." Jaime stated, sure that the boy wouldn't last an entire three seconds in a war let alone a single battle. Willum wasn't a man, he was a boy... a boy trying to be a man.

Eliana folded her arms over her chest, "And if he does, that boy will have no head on his shoulders if I get my hands on him afterwards." She threatened darkly, her gut telling her that was exactly what Willum would do given the chance.

"He better hope he can run fast and far." Jaime lifted the bowl to his mouth and drunk deeply. "You know..." He begun while pulling the bowl away again. "I do rather enjoy watching you tolerate his hopelessness." His smirk only grew when her eyes stilled on him, an eyebrow rising high.

"Looks like I'm going to have to find you a blindfold to wear then." She suggested, with a hint of a smile. "Cover that ugly face of yours."

He pretended to look hurt by her comment, but he knew she was jesting with him now as well. He rose onto his knees and sat directly below, as though he was going to plea with her. "Oh, don't ruin the only entertainment I get out of being held prisoner here." He grumbled. "We should spar sometime."

Eliana laughed then, shaking her head. "You take me for a fool?" She tested, not believing he would actually ask such a stupid question - especially to someone who was on the opposite side, the winning side.

"No, I take you for a woman..." Jaime's eyes began to wonder before he managed to catch himself, "A bloody intriguing one at that."

"Is that a compliment?" Eliana asked.

"If you want it to be."

They stared at each other, like they had done many times before. It was silent and ongoing. They hated each other, or at least tried make that point but in ever conversation they'd shared with one another, the hatred seemed to dissolve slowly and it felt like they'd known each other all their lives.

It was strange.

Jaime then felt a sudden surge of something - he didn't know what it was but he just couldn't help himself, he couldn't stop himself and he just blurted it out. "I did it. I pushed him. Your Bran."

Eliana was silent then, knowing he was admitting to her that he had pushed Bran from the tower. She didn't know what to say, just like she didn't know what to do when she found Bran lying like that with his direwolf howling crazily. The memory was so clear in her mind and it scared her; especially at night, and her father's death too.

"And I'm so sorry..." Jaime trailed off, feeling so low because he'd seen him bedding his sister, _no_ , fucking his sister. "And I understand if you don't want to talk to me anymore."

"I found him."

His head shot up again, his eyes falling on her as she frowned at nothing. He could tell she was deep in thought, or even remembering things that had happened in the past.

"He was just lying there on the ground i- in such a state... and I didn't know what I was meant to do. He wasn't awake, I was terrified because  _I_ was meant to have been watching him... me." She paused and sucked in a breath, she felt so guilty. So,  _so_  guilty and it was eating her alive from the inside out. She prayed to the Gods for two weeks, for them to return him to them. "And I failed him, a child... and I don't even know- "

"He defied your orders." Jaime interrupted with an abrupt tone to his voice.

Eliana gritted her teeth and blinked. She could feel her patience wearing thin and her anger rising slowly. "And you pushed him from that tower because you were frightened, you were afraid." Her voice was emotionless and plain now but she continued. "A boy, a small and fragile child."

But Jaime shook his head and edged towards her on his knees, failing to do so because of the chain around his neck which thankfully held him back. "You're failing to understand." He accused with furrowed brows.

"Am I?" Eliana had grown harsh suddenly. "I know why you pushed him, I'm not stupid - I'm able to think properly and I know.  _Is that why my father died?_  A man who didn't even want to be the Hand died for that? Because he confronted your sister of your illicit relationship with each other when he found out that none of those children were Robert's?"

He didn't say anything, which to Eliana only meant it was the truth.

"I hope they die in this war, because they deserve it... your sister and your bastard son deserve to die for what they've done to my family." Eliana took in another breath, "And I want you to watch... so you know  _how_  it feels to lose someone you love."

He immediately regretted his choice of words. Jaime's eyes had stilled and he held his breath. He wasn't used to those words, especially coming from her when she'd been quite considerate to him despite all he'd done. He knew he deserved it.

All of it.

So as she slunk away from him, Jaime Lannister carried on watching her depart. He didn't call out to her, he didn't smirk and he didn't move. He didn't react at all really, he didn't know how to if he was honest with himself. He was always so good when it came to women; but this one had stumped him.

He was annoyed at her.

He was annoyed that she didn't call him Kingslayer, that she didn't threaten him like her mother did, that she didn't step up to his taunts... and he wanted her to, he did. He threw his head back against the wooden post at his back and closed his eyes. "... Eliana Stark...  _the beauty of the north_  has turned you soft." He murmured, sighing. He cursed himself for letting her get to him so easily.

Cersei was who he loved, he'd always loved her. She was his twin, his lover, whom he belonged with... it wasn't right to be thinking of the Stark girl in her place - it wasn't right. When he'd agreed to join the Royal visit to Winterfell, he wanted to taunt and get under her skin, he didn't like her then but now, now that was changing. He didn't want to do those things to her anymore, he wanted to leave her be.

And then Jaime realised his mistake, his eyes widening with a low sneer.

"You fool."

* * *

Robb's anxiousness was growing by the minute. He was fearful for his next attack, he was blind in the eyes of the Gods - they couldn't help him here, if they had he would've saw the signs. But there were none, he had his banners though; he knew they were his true weapon although he couldn't help but wonder if the Gods would side with him or the  _enemy_.

Sighing, he turned to his side and his eyes fell on Theon. Theon was stood over the only table in the room, his eyes grazing across their battle plan, taking in every feature and every position. He could see the hunger for fight flashing through his eyes; it was in his blood. Theon was iron born, he was born to fight - he was meant to fight. Behind his eyes lurked that illness, the longer for battle, to end a man's live given the chance...  _vicious prick_ , Robb thought to himself as he remembered how Theon had taken down the Lannister troops in Riverrun.

"See anything useful?" He called over to him.

Theon raised his head but soon shook it, "I was merely looking over our advantages on our enemy,  _Your Grace_." His voice dripped with sarcasm towards the end as he wore his usual wonky smirk.

Robb returned his gestured with a content sigh. "We need to win this Theon, for my father." He hadn't realised his hands had bawled into fists at the mention of what he wanted.

"And we will." Theon pulled himself away from the table to approach Robb with his firm words. " _Not because we are stronger, because we are better._ Those were your sister's words, and they are as true I, Theon Greyjoy, the last living son of Balon Greyjoy."

Robb scoffed, "Those words were spoken in a moment of need... it was to boost morale." He muttered, moving a Stark piece to join the others. He knew he sounded like a child then, full with jealousy but he couldn't help it. He'd  _always_  been jealous of his sister.

"My father will join you."

He tried his best to avoid rolling his eyes at Theon's words but he couldn't stop himself. "Your father rebelled against my own... I will not." Robb said sternly, shaking his head. "One Greyjoy is enough, I wouldn't want a whole fleet of them so they can rebel again."

Theon was about to retaliate when he heard someone enter the tent which drew both of their attentions toward the entrance.

"Robb..." Eliana stalked into his tent with a worn expression on her face. She grimaced as she saw Theon standing next to him with his usual smirk. "Your squire is lost, I'm not teaching someone with his quality. He is useless and  _not_ worth my time." Eliana's voice was defiant and irritable, Robb knew his sister had had enough by then.

"We march on Oxcross in a day's time, I will need him to fight with me."

Eliana nodded, and folded her arms over her chest. "Then ask someone who is willing to train that oaf, because I certainly won't."

"Lia,  _please_." Robb groaned, moving towards her quickly and placing his hands on her shoulders. "He'll listen to you because you scare him." He tried to persuade her poorly with more compliments but Eliana wouldn't budge.

"I said no, Robb. You tricked me once, I will not fall for it again." And at that she marched back out and into the morning sun, leavings the boys to themselves.

Theon snickered when he saw the look on Robb's face, "Do you have balls?" He questioned, just to make sure. Theon only laughed more when Robb shot him a look of annoyance. Even Theon knew that Robb's squire wasn't really worth it, Eliana was right. The boy was foolish and stupid. "Although, you did pick a prick for your squire, Robb."

Robb nodded, "You say that now." He whispered, sinking into the chair nearest to him and holding his head in his hands. "I can only fight one war at a time, but at this rate I will be fighting the Lannisters and my own sister."

"My lord, I saw your sister departing..." A voice interrupted which caught Robb's attention when he recognised the voice. Catelyn stepped closer to her son, reaching a hand out to him as a comforting gesture. "What's wrong?" Catelyn quizzed, intrigued as to why Robb looked like he had no will left in him to speak.

"Eliana's..."

"Exhausting?" Catelyn finished with a content sigh. "She always was when she was younger, that's what sets her apart from you all. She's hard work but she's just as wonderful as the rest of you. She's good Robb, she's so good... she's kind, fierce and motivated - that's what you need, someone of her standards." Catelyn explained, her heart thriving as she described her eldest child. "And she's your sister, whom you should trust more than ever."

Catelyn had always felt something more for Eliana, no matter what her daughter thought she felt towards her. A mother's love is unconditional... that much  _is_  true. She was so proud of her, of who she'd become and how she'd adapted to her new surroundings and what the world was offering her. Catelyn looked between Robb and Theon before nodding and turning to go in search for her daughter in a hope to rekindle their relationship.

Upon hearing her words, an idea aroused in Robb's mind. "Mother..." Robb muttered as Catelyn turned back to face him with a frown. He looked so small for one split moment, showing the strain this war was putting on him. The burden he was carrying. "Help me understand her."


	7. The man who passes the sentence, should swing the sword.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Your heart is free, have the courage to follow it." She's a Wolf of Winterfell... wolf blood courses through her raging body. A wolf is untameable; she's as unconquered and unbeaten as the northern snow. No man can tame a Wolf of Winterfell; the Red Viper has tried just like the golden Lion... but still, the lone Wolf rages on.
> 
> Willum's lessons have come to an end, as has Eliana's patience.

The night before he decided to go to war again, Robb had found himself confronting the lion sat in one of his pens once he'd heard how frequently his sister had been visiting the prick.

The lion raised his head and snickered to himself before boasting joyfully. " _King in the North!_ " Jaime sung to himself, smiling comically. "I keep expecting you to leave me in one castle or another for safekeeping, but you drag me along from camp to camp..." He trailed, frowning before pretending to seem shocked. "Have you grown fond of me, Stark?  _Is that it?_ " He paused. Jaime leaned forward then, "I've never seen you with a girl."

But Robb didn't rise to his taunts, he had no intention of giving him what he wanted. "If I left you with one of my bannerman, you father would know within a fortnight and my bannerman would receive a raven with a message,  _r_ _elease my son and you'll be rich beyond your dreams. Refuse and your house will be destroyed, root and_   _stem_." Robb replied, the grip on the hilt of his sword tightening slowly as he watched the man below him.

 _"_ You don't _trust_ the loyalty of the men following you into battle?" Jaime questioned, a small snicker echoed in the man as it fell from his mouth.

Robb took a step back and then added with a bored tone, "Oh, I trust them with my life, just not with yours..." He trailed off as Grey Wind's low growl emerged through the darkness, falling around Jaime in a sheet of panic.

The same fear ran back to him when his eyes landed on the beast that had circled his pen but then widened only to see the beast then enter beside its master... he knew it was part of the boys plan to scare him and he couldn't deny that it was working. Jaime reduced himself to nothing when he felts the beasts teeth brush against his nose.

Robb smirked then, knowing that he got him right where he needed him. "And I suggest, you  _stay_  away from my sister, Kingslayer." Robb finished, turning his back on the pen charging off into the darkness, leaving Grey Wind to deal with the Lannister.

The direwolf opened its mouth, the low growl erupting loudly and Jaime began to tremble with his own fear. But as soon as it had come it was gone again.

When Jaime opened his eyes, he let out a sigh of relief as he saw he was still in one piece and thankfully alive. He let his head hit the post at his back and he took in a deep breath before letting it free again. His shoulders fell while he tried to rub the mud off his face but failed miserably.

"Bloody Starks."

Across the camp, the wind rippled through the trees. The sky was a murky grey with even darker storm clouds forming in the heavens above. It was going to be a horrible day, but hopefully that wouldn't affect tonight's plan.

They'd been working so hard to plan it perfectly, and they weren't going to let a little bit of rain get in the way.

Eliana peered through the entrance of the royal looking tent, sucking in a deep breath before pursuing her intentions. "Mother?" She called out, frowning slightly when she couldn't find her. She'd sworn she was in there, Robb had told her so.  _He couldn't lie to me about that, could he?_ Eliana closed her eyes and turned to walk back out and ready herself.

"Lia?"

Eliana stopped short and turned back again, seeing her mother standing there with a surprised look sat on her face. "Mother, I came to apologise for my ghastly behaviour towards you." She explained, clasping her hands together and sighing, feeling ashamed of herself.

"Nonsense, you don't have to apologise to me." Catelyn stated, taking a seat on one of the chairs set up in the tent and then gesturing to the seat beside her own. "Come, sit."

"Yes I do..." Eliana argued, her head falling into her hands. "I shouldn't have treated you as such, not like that. It was cruel of me to be so... so disrespectful and shameful." She was almost crying by the end of her sentence.

Catelyn moved closer to her, pulling her hands away from her face so she could see her properly. "I hold no grudge against you." Catelyn murmured, gripping her hands tightly.

"It's just... you and Robb - neither of you saw what I saw." Eliana whispered, letting the tears fall freely from her eyes as the memories haunted her. "You don't have to wake up in the night because that's all you can see in your minds eye that prevents your sleep. You never saw him die, you don't have the burden of remembering his head falling from his shoulders- "

Catelyn couldn't bear it anymore and she began to beg her daughter to stop. "Eliana, stop!" She exclaimed, her voice raised and tearful. "You're rambling... no one deserves to see that and you certainly didn't. Neither did Sansa, and I can only thank you for making sure Arya didn't..." Catelyn murmured, wondering if Sansa and Arya were all right. "But none of this is your fault, you know that. Your brother will win this and together, the both of you will make your father proud by doing something no one has ever considered; making the North independent."

Catelyn was certain her words had gotten through her daughter by the way her demeanour changed in that moment. Her back straightened and she took in a deep breath, nodding. Eliana composed herself, feeling Catelyn press a kiss to her forehead before she rose to her feet and headed towards the entrance of the tent.

Catelyn sighed to herself then, "Oh, Lia..."

Eliana had stalked away from her mother's tent and directly to the pens and to where Jaime was chained up while two bannermen followed behind her. She glanced back at them and nodded.

Jaime was hoisted onto his feet by Stark bannerman – the chains were removed from his neck as he was forced to stand which sent that horrible, aching pain shooting through his joints that he wasn't used to. He cast his gaze forward to where his eyes landed on the Stark girl.

He squinted when he saw her dressed in the armour that had been custom-made for her wear only. Then it hit him – there was to be a battle. "You look ravishing, Lia." He grinned, ignoring Robb Stark's warning of leaving her alone. "Are you going somewhere nice?"

Eliana smiled a small smile before composing herself again. "You humour me, Ser Jaime." She spoke dryly, nodding to the guards. "Take him."

Jaime resisted the guards then – or at least tried to, he wasn't used to the sensation of standing again and lost his balance and fell into the curdled mud beneath his feet. "No, tell me what's going on?!" He demanded.

"Orders of Lord Stark." One of the guards drawled, dragging him along.

Jaime tried to wriggle free as he was pulled up again. "I want to speak with Lady Stark – let me speak with Eliana."

"Sorry, Kingslayer but Lord Stark's orders are to keep you away from her." The other answered.

"I want to speak with her!" He argued, thrashing about in their grasp. He tried to turn his head to face the direction she had gone in. "Lia!  _Eliana!_ " But from what he could see, she was already gone.

* * *

They waited in the darkness, the horses still and silent, the rain pelting their heads from above as they sat on their horses and waited. The rain didn't dampen their fierce spirits though, they were ready for this.

Below them prowling on the ground were the two direwolves: Grey Wind and Shadow, ready and waiting to do their  _own_ duty to the cause. Their masters nodded and the beasts were gone, loose in the darkness.

Soon enough the screams of cubs reached their ears, the satisfying sound.

Robb looked to his sister, who had already drawn her sword and was sat waiting for his command. Knowing the time was right, Robb kicked his horse into action as Lord Umber's loud voice sounded in the distance.

" _King in the North!_ "

And then they charged.

Robb lost sight of his sister once they were off, he saw her horse running in another direction and then he spotted her on foot. For a sheer moment, panic rose within him at the sight of her running into battle with the cubs running right back at them.

Looking to his men, Robb drew his own sword and forced it high into the air, glistening in the moon light. His horse charged through the brush while his sword met the lost cubs below, cutting and slashing its way through flesh and limbs. He couldn't hear anything but the screams echoing around him and the pounding of hooves thumping through his head while the rains washed him free of the blood that was spluttering onto his face with every hack below.

On the ground, Eliana spun in a fluid movement and brought her sword down on another cub. She ripped the blade out again as the blood spurted onto the bare spot at her neck and then ran down her neck which sent an uneasy feeling through her but nonetheless she carried on. Eliana kicked the man to the floor and charged ahead with her direwolf at her side.

" _Winter is coming!_ "

* * *

The two Stark siblings trailed along behind Roose Bolton, coated in blood from head to toe, both sharing the Stark look of honour and duty. Robb looked to his sister, seeing her look of disdain while her eyes watched the man walking in front of them.

Bolton had a plain face, beardless and ordinary, with his eerie eyes that were pale and strange which always reminded Eliana of two white moons. He was fairly tall but shorter than Robb. His skin was pasty white, most likely due to leechings in the past. Today, Bolton was wearing his usual black ringmail and a spotted pink cloak accompanied by his suit of dark grey plate armour over a quilted tunic of blood-red leather.

It was the rondels that put off Eliana all together. The rondels on his armour were the shape of human heads with mouths open in agony, but it was when he spoke that told her Roose Bolton was not to be trusted. His voice was spider soft; he was softly spoken and rarely raised his voice, which forced those listening to do so intently.

Roose smirked slightly when he saw the look he was receiving from the Stark girl but chose to not speak of it. " _Five_  Lannisters dead for every one of ours." He told them. "We've nowhere to keep  _all_  these prisoners... barely enough food to feed  _our_  own."

Eliana frowned at him, not trusting a single word that fell from his mouth. "We're not executing prisoners, Lord Bolton." She said sharply, a little too sharply for Bolton's liking.

Bolton swallowed but nodded, "Of course, my lady." He bowed his head slightly in her direction. "The officers will be useful... some of them may be privy to Tywin Lannister's plans." Bolton stated with his soft tone.

"I doubt it." Robb muttered quietly.

Bolton looked to Robb who now walked beside him and not behind him. "Well, we'll learn soon enough." He concluded, his hands clasped tightly at the centre of his back. _"_ In my family we say,  _a naked man has few secrets. A flayed man none._ "

Both Starks immediately knew what his intentions were then and neither liked the sound of them. Eliana went to argue with Bolton but Robb beat her to it with calm words and not her angry ones. "Our father outlawed flaying in the North." He reminded Bolton with a warning tone.

"We're not in the North."

Eliana's teeth were pressed tightly against each other as she glowered at the man, "We're not torturing them." She hissed, annoyed at his suggestions. Bolton was a vile man, a untrustworthy and vile man who made her skin crawl.

Bolton paused and turned to face Eliana and Robb with an annoyed look of his own. "The high road's very pretty, but you'll have a hard time marching your army down it." He spoke, glowering slightly at Eliana in the heat of the moment.

Robb stepped in between the both of them and glared at Bolton. "The Lannisters hold prisoners of their own... I won't give them an excuse to abuse our sisters." His voice was stern and held no emotion to it; it was final, Robb's choice was final. His attention was drawn away from Bolton though when he heard a man's pleas to his side.

Surrounded by dead bodies, a man was attempting to free himself from the attention of the two women trying to help him. "No, no don't!  _Don't!_ " He called out, his voice frightened and shaky.

One of the women took a strong hold of his right leg and pulled off his boot. "Shh, shh... please." She muttered, her eyes inspecting the wound before she closed her eyes with a sigh. "The rot's set in."

At that, Robb began to wonder towards them which left both Eliana and Bolton watching in confusion.

But the man still resisted, "No, don't! No, don't!" He shouted, pushing her hands away from his leg. "Please, don't! It'll get better. It doesn't  _even_  hurt..." He tried, pleading as much as he could.

"The rot will spread..." The woman begun, hearing the grass crunch beside her. "If we don't take the foot now..." She looked up and trailed off when she saw Robb approaching them.

"No, you can't!" The man then spotted Robb as well before he forced him to the ground. "Ser! Please, Ser. I can't lose..." He tried to plead with Robb.

Robb pushed him down harder, glancing at his leg. "You'll die if she doesn't." He warned, holding him down as Bolton and Eliana approached the scene.

The man cried out then, "I don't want to be a cripple,  _please_."

Bolton looked to Eliana, who was staring at her brother with a frown. "Surely one of our men needs your attention more than this cub." Bolton advised, and Eliana couldn't help but agree with him.

The woman didn't even bother to look up from the wound. "Your men are not my men, my Lord." She answered undoing her instruments beside her and reaching for the saw.

Eliana smirked when Bolton shut up and didn't speak again.

Robb took a piece of loose cloth and held it towards the man's mouth. "Put this in your mouth and lie down. You don't want to watch." He told him, trying to put the cloth into his mouth but the man was still being defiant and thrashing about endlessly.

"No! You can't!"

Sighing to herself, Eliana moved forward, crouched down and pulled on his ears which caused the man to let out a shout of pain but it also gave Robb the quick chance to slip the cloth into his mouth with ease. "Bite on it. It's better than biting your own tongue,  _believe me_." She told him, as the woman began to move the saw against the rotting flesh.

Muffled screaming soon filled all their ears.

* * *

Eliana looked to one of the bannerman stood behind her and swallowed. "Did you find Willum, Manfred? Lothar?" She questioned quietly. She never saw the boy during the battle and she'd known he'd ran like a coward.

The bannermen shook their heads in reply, "No, my lady."

Eliana's fists tightened in annoyance and anger. "Find him, search everywhere." She ordered the two of them with a dark look in her eyes. "And when you do, bring him straight to me. No one else, is that clear?"

"Yes, my lady." The two banners bowed their heads and moved off.

Eliana turned around, scouting for her brother in the crowds of men only to find him speaking with the woman from Volantis, Talisa. She watched the way he looked at her and she knew what was happening. She found herself beginning to walk towards them, hearing their conversation as she did. "You're going to kill Joffrey?" Talisa asked when she arrived.

Robb sighed, "If the Gods give me strength." He answered confidently.

Talisa looked at him, "And then what?"

"I don't know." Robb admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. "We'll go back to Winterfell. I have no desire to sit on the Iron Throne." Robb explained to her, not even noticing Eliana watching the pair of them.

Talisa however, had seen her but chose to ignore her. "So who will?" She questioned in reply, still frowning at him.

"I don't know."

Talisa nodded with a confused look, "You're fighting to overthrow a king, and yet you have no plan for what comes after?" She questioned him, tilting her head in concern.

"First we have to win the war..." As he said that, Talisa climbed onto the wagon and it began to move away from Robb. "You never told me where you're from."

"Volantis."

Robb started forward, almost as if to follow her. "Volantis?" He questioned her answer with a faint smile before adding, "You're far from home." Talisa didn't reply though and Robb had to think of something else to say. "The boy was lucky you were here."

Talisa replied then. "He was unlucky that  _you_  were."

When the wagon was gone, Eliana moved towards Robb and coughed, making herself known. Something had sparked then, and that couldn't happen – especially not after he'd sworn to Walder Frey that he would marry one of his daughters. "Robb, you know you can't…" She murmured from his side, knowing the faint feeling and giving his hand a small squeeze.

Robb swallowed hard and nodded curtly, "I know..."

* * *

The pens were awful. Jaime was frustrated as he watched the Stark troops filter through the camp and settle – he still wanted to speak with Eliana but he was blind to see her so he resorted to shouting at every passer-by. "Where is Lady Eliana?" He would ask every time someone would pass his pen. "Has anyone seen her?"

But none answered.

Jaime's attention drifted to his pen entrance as another member of his father's army was forced into the pen; that was the third in the past hour… the rest before him had died. "What happened?" He rushed out once the man had been chained up and the guard had left.

"We lost that's what happened." He spat out blood and grimaced. "Fucking wolves."

Jaime sighed, "They're calling it the battle of Oxcross – where the two Starks rode on their direwolves into battle and hacked our armies to shreds…" He explained, with frantic eyes.

"What a load of shit." The soldier spat in disgust, "The Starks won which means you get to wallow in your shit a while longer."

Jaime nodded with a strained look, "And what of the Starks? Are both of them still in the land of the living?"

The soldier frowned at Jaime and gritted his teeth. "Why do you care about them so much?" He growled with harsh eyes.

Jaime opened his mouth to reply but no words came and so he shut it again and looked down but then something else caught his attention outside the pen.

"Fred, I've found the boy!" Lothar dragged young Willum by the collar as he walked past Jaime's pen. Willum was sporting a black eye and a broken cheekbone by the look of him from what Jaime could see. "Hold up!"

"Where was the runt?" Manfred spat, standing over the boy.

"Please don't..." Willum stuttered with a shaky voice, squeezing his eyes shut as if to make the pain disappear.

Lothar sighed, and rolled his eyes. "Hiding with the cooks like a proper little coward, ain't that right boy?" He chuckled darkly, forcing him into Manfred with a harsh shove of the arm. "Lady Eliana will want to see him straight away." The two bannermen nodded and took the boy each by the arm and began to pull him away.

Jaime looked up and crawled onto his knees as quickly as he could. "Did you say Eliana?" He pressed.

Lothar glared at him and spat, "It doesn't concern you, Kingslayer."

* * *

"Lia, think about this!" Robb chased after her, watching in anger as she dragged his squire along by his collar. He'd heard the shouting from inside his tent and immediately came running to see what the situation was about and found this.

"I have!" She growled, forcing the boy onto his knees in the centre of the camp. "Young Willum here is a coward…" She crouched down opposite the boy and stared into his eyes before retreating backward. "The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword but you my dear brother won't do that... so it seems as though I will have to do the honours."

By now Robb was staring in shock along with Bolton, who was holding him back by the arms. "Don't. Your men need to know what happens to traitors and cowards, Your Grace." He warned him, still managing to keep him back from interfering.

"Eliana, stop this now!" Robb demanded, wanting his sister to put a stop to her games and let the boy go instead of ending his young life in such a way.

His shouting caught Jaime's attention and thankfully he could see them all in the darkness because of the flaming torches in the camp. He saw Willum on his knees crying to himself, while Eliana stood over him arguing with Robb.

She shook her head and drew her sword wordlessly and turned to face Willum. "Any last words,  _boy_?" Eliana asked, placing the steel against his bare neck.

" _Please_." Willum whimpered. "You don't have to do this, I can be a better squire. I know I can." He tried to look up at her but the cold steel stopped him. It's chill was unnerving and made him feel sick.

"Poor choice of words."

"Please." Robb tried to reason with her the best he could but he knew the stubbornness that his sister bore. "Lia, don't do anything stupid!"

But she'd made her choice long before Robb had found out her plan to take matter's into her own hands.

And then her sword came down.


	8. Whisperers in the Wood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Your heart is free, have the courage to follow it." She's a Wolf of Winterfell... wolf blood courses through her raging body. A wolf is untameable; she's as unconquered and unbeaten as the northern snow. No man can tame a Wolf of Winterfell; the Red Viper has tried just like the golden Lion... but still, the lone Wolf rages on.
> 
> Everyone must play their part in the wars to come...

Death always confused her, she didn't have a clue why though; it was fairly simple most of the time. She didn't know if it was how some reacted or how some carried it out - it was just odd to her when she thought of it and she found that if she even tried to understand it properly she would be even more confused than she was before.

Eliana wasn't scared of death, she thought herself one of the very few that welcomed it with open arms. To her, death was merely a passage into another life... she didn't really know what made her take Willum's head the previous night, but here she was staring up at his estranged head as it sat firmly on its spike, his eyes staring down at her own, wide with terror.

She didn't know what she felt either,  _the boy would've died anyway,_  she told herself which she thought to be true. He wasn't strong or smart - he was still a child, a naïve child who had the misfortune of meeting her. She knew she told herself that to prevent her guilt of killing him but it had to be done and due to that, Robb hadn't spoken with her that morning and she understood why yet she did not care in the slightest.

To her, Robb let things get to him too easily - he was like a woman with his emotions and actions. She knew love would be his downfall, she saw it when he met Talisa after the battle and watched their interactions with each other. Then again, love was everyone's downfall. It was the unfair choice that they would both face; Robb and Eliana would never marry freely, their future husband and wife would be chosen for them and neither would be happy.

But today, the silence had become her enemy. It was annoying her terribly.

The only time she could get away from the silence that morning was when she decided to venture into the woods just outside of the camp and listen to its whispers of old although no one was there, she knew the voices belonged to the spirits of the wood. When she heard their whispers, she felt comforted in a way... the woods reminded her of the Crypts at Winterfell or the Godswood but of course there were no Gods wood in the South and she felt more alone than ever.

Since the events of last night occurred, silence had filled the air around the camp. No one had spoken that morning and she couldn't deny how irritating it was. The bannerman were in crowds as they would gather in the centre of camp to watch the display that had been set up. Willum's head was sat on a spike in the centre of camp for all to see thanks to Eliana – though he wasn't alone, among the heads were the heads of Lannister soldiers and other traitors.

Eliana had stared at them all morning.

Bolton slowly moved through the mud to where she was stood quietly. He knew he shouldn't even be approaching her considering her mood swings and anger but he was intrigued to hear her speak. He paused when she spoke, surprised she knew someone was behind her. "Do you reckon Cersei and Joffrey's heads will look as pretty, Lord Bolton?"

Bolton's jaw tightened when he stepped to her side. "Absolutely, Your Grace." He agreed with a curt nod, sounding strained.

"My brother is  _Your Grace_ , Lord Bolton." Eliana commented, her eyes not falling from the heads for a second, not bothering to acknowledge him properly. "I am not my brother."

"Clearly,  _my lady_." Bolton stated, clasping his hands tightly behind his back as he saw Eliana finally glance at him with a sharp glare. "Is something the matter,  _my lady_?"

She tried to ignore how he'd chosen to emphasize the word now, probably to elicit an emotional response from her. "Did you want something?" She pressed, her brows furrowing in question as she turned to face him. The moon eyes stared right back at her and it made her feel uneasy, unsettling something inside her.

"I just came to express my disappointment on the departure of Willum." He shrugged, looking up to the boy's head.

"And you're telling me you wouldn't have done the same?" Eliana stared at Roose with a look of sheer hatred, and gritted her teeth when he didn't reply. "You've done your damage, now in the most politest way I can manage for someone like yourself...  _piss off_."

"Have I offended you?" Bolton questioned, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips. "I admit, I had hoped you'd marry my bastard, Ramsay, but it seems you've got a poisonous tongue for vipers."

Eliana's gaze froze over but she frowned when he stopped talking. "No, carry on…" She waved her hand, gesturing for him to continue. "Give me a reason to cut out your tongue." She'd stepped into his personal space, staring him down and looking ready for a fight as her hand sat on the hilt of her sword.

Bolton thought about his options; either he could retaliate or he could retreat. Not wanting to give her what she wanted or satisfy her for that matter, he was almost tempted to continue speaking but, nonetheless, stepped back.

"What a shame." Eliana admitted, "I didn't take you for a coward." She suddenly stalked away from Bolton, not wishing to bear his presence any longer than necessary... and she wouldn't put her faith or trust in the hands of a flayer.

Catelyn had spotted Eliana and Bolton talking and she knew the conversation had been sour by the way her daughter looked at the man in front of her as they spoke. Catelyn also knew that her daughter wasn't very fond of Bolton, neither was she if she was particularly honest.  _Neither did Ned, but he's an ally we need_... she told herself and she strode towards her daughter.

"Eliana."

Her head shot out to the side and her eyes landed on Catelyn as she made her way towards her, "You mustn't regard your allies as such, especially one as Roose Bolton." She advised with concern flooding into her eyes.

"If you call Bolton an ally, mother…" She mumbled under her breath. "I swear to the Gods..."

"I hope you're not cursing under your breath." Catelyn warned, her restless eyes observing her daughter silently. She was hardening on the inside, and she was worried that soon there would be nothing left of the little bundle of joy that entered the world. "Your brother informed me of- "

"Willum's departure?" Eliana beat her to it with a sigh, her arms folding across her chest. "The bloody coward will be sorely missed."

Catelyn's brow fell in disappointment, she hated it when Eliana chose to act like this; it was hostile and hateful. "Don't make jests about the dead, Lia – it's no laughing matter."

Eliana closed her eyes and bit her lip. She looked at her mother before returning to walking. "He was a coward, mother – I explained it to him on multiple occasions of what would happen if he ran and yet he still did not listen."

Catelyn nodded, following her daughter along quickly, "Well, you have more courage than the rest of us, Lia. I don't think I could muster the courage without being frightened to carry out such an act."

Eliana didn't know whether to take that as a compliment or as an insult. It wasn't down to courage to make her do what she did to Willum, it was right by their laws. "Courage isn't just a matter of not being frightened, it's being afraid and doing what you have to do anyway." Eliana explained, realising that her mother wasn't familiar with killing anyone.

And she didn't expect her to be.

"I'm worried, Eliana." She expressed her concern which drew in her daughter's attention. "I don't want to lose you to the cause." Catelyn murmured, "And I don't mean you being killed, I mean losing you as a person... your humanity is sacred and you can't lose it."

Eliana smiled, "You're worried about my humanity?" She laughed softly, as she headed further in front of her. "I swear to you mother as long as your presence is around, I will not discard my humanity. I promise." She called, heading towards the stockades.

"Lia don't go and see him!" She heard her mother shout but she wasn't going to listen to her when it came to that. Jaime Lannister seemed to be one of the few sane ones in the entire camp.

* * *

Footsteps drew his eyes upwards when he heard them approaching his pen. He was alone again, all that had joined him in his pen had died and to be fair, he wasn't surprised either.

Jaime sighed deeply, "Not more of that fucking poison broth I've been forced to live off..." He trailed off when he saw Eliana with a waterskin in her hand, losing his words as he watched her.

"Lovely." She commented, unlocking the pen and stepping inside with a smile on her face. "I'll let the cooks know of your opinion." She threw him the skin which he easily caught despite his hands been chained together.

"I apologise, I thought you were one of the guards." Jaime muttered, sipping the water from the skin. He didn't know what to say after that, he just didn't - not after what he witnessed last night. He admitted to himself that he was slightly scared of what she was capable of, being fully aware now but something told him that she wouldn't do anything to him, she had no intention of hurting him.

"Thank you for that." Eliana replied, sighing. "I know you saw what I did to Willum but silent treatment is just plain childish, Jaime."

Jaime frowned at her, "Me  _childish_?" He scoffed and looked away from her, not wanting to give her satisfaction.

"What was I meant to do with a coward?" Eliana questioned with desperation in her eyes, wanting to know what he would've done in her position. "Tell me what you would've done..."

Jaime looked at her to see her looking lost and probably feeling that she'd done the wrong thing. "I don't know." He admitted with a shrug of his shoulders, "I just can't believe you beheaded him."

Eliana nodded and sat down on the mud, not caring if she got dirty. "That surprised,  _eh?_  It seems the men have weak hearts when compared to women in this part of the realm." She pressed, sighing as her eyes stared at him. She'd noticed his long beard and tangled hair, the tired look sat under his eyes while he stared back at her. "I'm not quite as innocent as you may have assumed I was."

Jaime smiled at that and looked down. He could feel his body temperature rising higher and higher as he tried to stop it from showing. Thankfully, he saw that she failed to see his blush rising up his neck. " _Clearly_ , Lia... you've never been innocent." His voice had a cheeky tone to it, but then it changed as he questioned her suddenly. "Why didn't you come and see me after?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, she'd known this would be brought up. She's heard of him wanting to see her but she'd had more pressing matters to tend to than seeing Jaime. "I heard about your persistent questioning, the banners informed me that you were appearing to be worried for my survival." She told him, tilting her head in question and silently waited for him to admit to it.

"I..." Jaime trailed off, trying to think of something to say. "I was merely expressing my concern for your welfare as my captor."

Eliana shook her head, "You're full of shit, aren't you?" She laughed to herself, crossing her arms.

Jaime joined in with her laughter, and they both laughed together.

It felt good.

* * *

Eliana was stood in the tent, watching quietly as Robb spoke with Alton Lannister, discussing the peace agreement. "I offer your cousins peace if they meet my terms." Robb was saying while he sat quite comfortably in his chair and furs as Alton stood shivering.

Robb glanced to his side, seeing Eliana eyeing the only Lannister in the tent with sharp eyes. "First, your family must release my sisters... second, my father's bones must be returned to us so he may rest beside his brother and sister in the crypts beneath Winterfell." He paused briefly, taking in a sigh before continuing. "And the remains of all those who died in his service must also be returned. Their families can honor them with proper funerals."

Alton nodded and said, "An honorable request, Your Grace." He agreed and Eliana couldn't help but feel as though he wanted his life to end by the way he answered, sounding so mocking.

Robb, however, chose to ignore the same thoughts and continued with his terms. "Third _..._ Joffrey and the Queen Regent must renounce all claim to dominion of the North." Robb anounced, seeing his sister's eyes shift to his. "From this time till the end of time, we are a free and independent kingdom." He concluded.

" _The King in the North_." Rodrik Cassel announced, a proud smile forming on his lips as he stared at the man at the head of the war council table, no longer a boy.

The rest of the banners sat around the table joined him in toasting to their king. "King in the North." They cheered together, Theon Greyjoy's voice toppling over the others as he repeated the common phrase that often fell from their lips nowadays.

"Neither Joffrey nor any of his men shall set foot in our lands again." Robb carried on with his terms, determined to drum them into his head so he would not forget. "If he disregards this command, he shall suffer the same fate as my father, only I don't need a servant to do my beheading for me."

Alton could feel the sweat gathering in the palms of his hands as he wiped them along his torn tunic. "These are... Your Grace, these are- "

Robb stood and lent against the table with a soft glare. "These are my terms." He declared with a sharp tone that ordered authority. "If the Queen Regent and her son meet them, I'll give them peace... _if not_... I will litter the south with Lannister dead."

"King Joffrey is a Baratheon, Your Grace." Alton contradicted Robb with a frown pulling at his brows. He didn't understand what he was trying to say,  _is he saying that Joffrey has no claim to the Iron Throne?_

Eliana couldn't help herself then and she let her annoyance get the better of her, " _Oh, is he?_ " She asked to no one in particular, waiting for any of them to disagree with her, wanting Alton to contradict her as well but he wasn't given the chance as Robb interrupted him by sending him off.

"You'll ride at daybreak, Ser Alton." He commanded as he was led out by guards. "That will be all for tonight." And at that everyone seated around the table rose and quickly exited the tent apart from Theon and Eliana.

Gliding though the tent, Eliana found a spare goblet and took the barrel that was discarded to the side, seeing the appetising red liquid stir when she lifted it and quickly filled the goblet before she emptied it again. She picked up another goblet and filled it along with her own and then made her way to Robb, offering it to him.

Robb smiled and took the goblet from her silently. He didn't speak, he didn't need to although he couldn't help but let his mind wonder if he did. He knew he would have to amend things with her  _yet_  again but as he opened his mouth another's sounded. "A word, Your Grace?" He turned his head, the auburn curls bouncing in the candle light and saw Theon walking to him.

Robb smiled to himself and sighed, "You don't have to call me _Your Grace_  when no one's around... apart from Lia, she doesn't seem to care that much for the name." He replied, knowing it was true - Eliana only used it if she were angry with him so it sounded patronising and mocking.

"It's not so bad once you get used to it." Theon shrugged.

Robb took another sip of the wine, "I'm glad someone's gotten used to it." Robb admitted, feeling a little odd being regarded as a  _king_.

Theon looked down and bit the inside of his cheek in hesitation. "The Lannisters are going to reject your terms, you know?" He stated, knowing it was what Cersei would do as soon as Alton returned to them with his terms.

"Of course they are."

"We can fight them in the fields as long as you like, but we won't beat them until you take King's Landing..." Theon paused, his gaze shifting to Eliana who was now sat at the table, her attention draw to the map laid out but he knew she was listening to their conversation freely. "And we can't take King's Landing without ships. My father has ships and men who know how to sail them."

Robb heard Eliana scoff before he sighed in agreement with her response to the suggestion. "Men who fought my father." He re-phrased easily with a calm voice.

But Theon was being persistent for some unknown reason. "Men who fought King Robert to free themselves from the yoke of the South, just like you're doing now." He argued with a sudden dark look in his eyes as he watched Robb. "I'm his only living son, he'll listen to me...  _I know he will_. I'm not a Stark. I know that." Theon paused and shook his head. "But your father raised me to be an honorable man."

"We can avenge him together."

* * *

Catelyn had joined her two children in the King's tent and had agreed with Eliana as soon as Robb had informed her of Theon's proposal to offer them aid. "You don't want Balon Greyjoy for an ally." Were her first words in reply to the less than joyous news.

Eliana nodded, "I agree, brother." She repeated for the hundredth time to make sure Robb would listen to her before rushing into things.

"I need his ships." Robb argued, his hand rubbing the stubble that was slowly turning into a beard at his lips. "They say he has two hundred." He wondered aloud, sounding as though he were in a dream.

"They say a million rats live in the sewers of King's Landing." Catelyn marched off to fill her own goblet will water, "Shall we rally them to fight for us?" She questioned with a harsh tone before dropping the ladle into the barrel which sat on the floor.

"I understand you don't trust Lord Greyjoy- "

Catelyn cut him off, angered. "I don't trust Lord Greyjoy because he is not trustworthy. Your father had to go to war to end his rebellion." She shouted, not believing her eldest son was considering such an option in order to get what he wants.

"Yes." Robb spoke with a strain to his voice, being cautious over his choice of words. "And now I'm the one rebelling against the throne. Before me, it was father. You married one rebel and mothered another."

"I mothered two by the looks of it." Her eyes softened as she looked at her two children, who shared the same physical appearance save their hair and then their diverse personalities and traits. "I mothered more than just rebels, a fact you seem to have forgotten." She rose to her feet again, still angered by his latest plan.

"If I trade the Kingslayer for two girls, my bannermen will string me up by my feet." His statement made Eliana shoot him a glare from where she sat, he shouldn't care what the bannermen would do to him - they were his sisters. Family matters more than anything in the world and all he seems to care about is being dishonoured by seeming weak.

Catelyn was still infuriated, "You want to leave Sansa in the Queen's hands?  _And Arya..._ I haven't heard a word about Arya." Her voice was pained as she yearned for her two other girls. "What are we fighting for if not for them?"

Robb lost it then, "It's more complicated than that!" He shouted at her, making her jump and take a step back. " _You know it is.._." The last part came out in a whisper.

"It's time for me to go home." Catelyn sighed, wrapping her arms around herself as if an attempt of comfort. "I haven't seen Bran or Rickon in months."

"You can't go to Winterfell."

"I beg your pardon?" Catelyn questioned as Eliana rose to her feet, glaring at Robb although she understood where he was going as they'd discussed this before their mother had entered the tent. She just didn't agree with the sharpness to his tone.

"I'll send Rodrik to watch over the boys because tomorrow you'll ride south to the Stormlands." Robb stated, leaving her look lost and confused.

Catelyn raised an eyebrow and she looked to Eliana for help. "Why in the name of all the Gods..."

Eliana sighed and decided to take over from her brother. "Because we need you to negotiate with Renly Baratheon... he's rallied an army of a hundred thousand men and thankfully, you know him. You know his family." Eliana explained with certainty their mother would succeed in helping their cause.

"I haven't seen Renly Baratheon since he was a boy." Catelyn said, feeling slightly forced into the plan rather than agreeing to it with her own mind. " _You have a hundred_   _other lords..._ Eliana would gladly accept the duty, wouldn't you Lia?" Catelyn tried, offering her a smile with a nod of her head as if to edge her on.

"Which of these lords do I trust more than you?" Robb stood and moved towards her, his hands stretched out. "Besides, Lia and I have discussed this, I need her by my side while I ride into battle... if Renly sides with us, we'll outnumber them two to one." Robb couldn't hide his determination and ambition when he spoke of Renly Baratheon and how many his army consisted of. He wanted them, he  _needed_  them with him. "When they feel the jaws beginning to shut, they'll sue for peace."

"We'll get the girls back." Eliana added, staring at her mother with a pained expression. She hadn't told her mother of where Arya was because she didn't want to worry her further, that she was on route to the wall with Yoren and would be safe from the Queen but Sansa didn't have that luxury. "Then we'll all go home... for good."

Catelyn eventually nodded, "I will ride at first light." She sighed in defeat.

"We will all be together again soon, I promise." Robb vowed, squeezing her shoulder comfortingly, wanting nothing more to reunite his family and live a long and happy life.

"You've done so well." Catelyn told the pair of them, taking hold of their hands and smiling softly. "Your father would be... proud of both of you." She assured the two of them with her own pride. They were doing the right thing in turn to make the North a better place, not really thinking about what would happen to themselves in process of doing so but despite all that, Catelyn couldn't express her pride any more than she had done so already.

Robb smiled at her words and took them in before replying. "Give Lord Renly my regards." He took a sip from his goblet and sat back down, not realising the mistake he'd made like his sister had.

Eliana chuckled and shook her head, "And you're  _meant_ to be a King yourself, honestly." She laughed to herself which got her a confused look from him at her laughing. "You're an idiot..."

Hearing her second insult, Robb looked to his mother for help but he saw her smiling in her direction which didn't help his confusion in any way.

" _King_  Renly." Catelyn corrected, with a small smile on her face as she caught her daughter's eye. "There's a king in every corner now..."


	9. Unconquered and unbeaten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Your heart is free, have the courage to follow it." She's a Wolf of Winterfell... wolf blood courses through her raging body. A wolf is untameable; she's as unconquered and unbeaten as the northern snow. No man can tame a Wolf of Winterfell; the Red Viper has tried just like the golden Lion... but still, the lone Wolf rages on.
> 
> Negotiations aren't everyone's strong suit...

Loras Tyrell, Ser Loras was exceptionally handsome with long, flowing brown hair and golden eyes from what Catelyn could see as she stood and watched him fight the beast that was stalking towards him. She wasn't familiar with the boy but despite his youth and slender frame, Loras was a capable warrior, very courteous however, she knew he was thirsty for glory and could be short-tempered and impetuous.

But she couldn't help chuckle to herself as she watched the knight sink into the bath of mud below whilst the other kept pounding him with hits until he finally let out yelps like a pup when he saw the dagger coming towards his exposed neck. " _Yield!_  I yield!" He protested.

The knight hesitated briefly before eventually pulling back and allowed Loras, shaken and humiliated, to scramble to his freedom.

"Well fought." The booming voice of Renly Baratheon echoed through the crowds and the resemblance between his voice and Robert's was uncanny for a split second to Catelyn until she clapped eyes on him and saw he was no longer the boy she once met.

Renly was handsome with his jet-black hair flowing to his shoulders, neatly combed which still made him look eerily similar to a once young Robert Baratheon, though he stood several inches shorter, and was far less muscular. His eyes reflected the suit of enamelled green armour laid across his body with a golden head-piece, fit for a king, sporting a pair of golden antlers.

He was indeed no longer the boy she'd briefly encountered.

"Approach." He gestured to the knight, who stalked forward and sunk into a deep bow before him and remained there until he next spoke. "Rise... remove your helm."

The knight fell hesitant again, as though they were cautious to reveal themselves to the crowds stood surrounding them, however, the hands reached for the helm and slowly removed it. The man - no, the  _woman_  that Loras had attempted to fight was distinctly unfeminine in appearance. Catelyn noted her tallness and how muscular she was and she couldn't help but think of Eliana by how she'd fought, the resemblance was uncanny. But this woman was flat-chested and ungainly, with straw-colored hair and broad, coarse features that were covered in freckles.

Around her, the crowd began murmuring in disgust and surprise but Renly gripped the arms of his chair in excitement and anxiousness while a gleeful look rose into his eyes along with a wide smile. "You are all your father promised and more, My Lady... I've seen Ser Loras bested once or twice, but never quite in that fashion." He mused as Loras turned away infuriated by his words.

"Now, now, my love." The woman sat beside Renly finally spoke which drew Catelyn's attention to her. "My brother fought valiantly for you." She noted with a small frown as he glanced at her.

Renly sighed, "That he did, my Queen." He agreed with a nod, "But there can only be one champion. Brienne of Tarth,  _you may ask anything_   _of me you desire._ If it is within my power, it is yours." Renly declared, the smile evolving into a tight grin as he stared at the woman before him.

Brienne sunk onto her knees again and began to speak. "Your Grace, I ask the honor of a place in your Kingsguard." Her wish was simple yet caused an immediate uproar around her.

Loras scoffed, outraged as the entire audience mimicked his shock at her oddly request. "What?"

But Brienne ignored them and continued to pursue what she wanted from Renly. "I will be one of your seven, pledge my life to yours, and keep you safe from all harm." She vowed, determined to follow the oath through if given the chance.

Renly narrowed his eyes at her before licking his lips and sighing. "Done." He agreed with a tight smile this time, ignoring the looks he was receiving from his banners. "Rise, Brienne of the Kingsguard." He then began to clap and his bright smile and gleeful eyes returned.

As she rose again, the guard that had escorted Catelyn to the tournament led her to the centre to where she stood before Renly as Brienne had and strangely felt as though she was on trial. "Your Grace, I have the honor to bring you Lady Catelyn Stark, sent as an envoy by her son Robb, Lord of Winterfell." He introduced as all eyes fell on her in intrigue and suspicion.

"Lord of Winterfell and King in the North." Catelyn announced.

Renly smiled at her, "Lady Catelyn, I'm pleased to see you." He greeted warmly, gesturing a hand to his side. "May I present my wife Margaery of House Tyrell?" Renly introduced as Catelyn bowed her head in respect.

"You are very welcome here, Lady Stark. I'm so sorry for your loss." Margaery said with sincerity. Her thick, softly curly brown hair hung just below her shoulders while her large brown eyes shone brightly against her unblemished skin. There were considerable similarities between her and her brother Loras from what Catelyn could see.

Catelyn forced a smile as the pain and grief of her husband's death submerged once more. "You are most kind." She bit out.

Catelyn had sworn Renly must have spotted the pain resurface in her eyes and so he drew her attention back to him to spare her of the pain. "My Lady, I swear to you I will see the Lannisters answer for your husband's murder." Renly began with a motivated, authoritative tone as his grip tightened on his chair. "When I take King's Landing, I'll bring you Joffrey's head."

The men erupted into cheers at his words.

"It will be enough to know that justice was done, My Lord." Catelyn answered with a curt nod of approval.

Brienne stepped toward her slightly, " _Your_  Grace." She corrected her which shocked Catelyn slightly. _"_ And you should kneel when you approach the King." Brienne added with a sharp tone as Catelyn turned her head to look at her.

Renly saw the tension and knew Catelyn may retaliate. "There's no need for that, Lady Stark is an honoured guest." He reminded Brienne, softly.

"Has your son marched against Tywin Lannister yet?" Came the voice of Loras from behind her as she tried her best not to roll her eyes at his childish tendencies and whining.

"I do not sit on my son's war councils." Catelyn informed the boy without turning to look at him. "And if I did, I would not share his strategies with you." She concluded, glaring at nothing.

Loras, however, did not stop there and decided to perceive further. "If Robb Stark wants a pact with us, he should come himself, not hide behind his mother's skirts." He commented sourly.

"My son is fighting a war, not playing at one."

Loras fell silent as her words reached him while some of the men chuckled in reply which only deepened his humiliation.

Renly rose slowly and clasped his hands together before rushing down the steps towards Catelyn, "Don't worry, My Lady." He gestured for her to follow him when he reached her, "Our war is just beginning."

* * *

Renly led Catelyn along as the camp around them thrived with life. Behind them, Brienne trailed with the rest of the Kingsguard following. They passed a banner leading along a horse with a painful limp but he tried to hide it as Renly looked to him. "Your Grace." He bowed his head to Renly out of respect.

Renly returned his nod with a small smile. "Gerard. How's your foot?" He questioned, a concerned look pulling at his face.

Gerard nodded and shook his head like it was nothing. "Better, Your Grace." He stated, with a chuckle. "They don't know their own size is all."

"Good man." Renly clapped a hand on his shoulder and continued along with Catelyn. "I have a hundred thousand men at my command. All the might of the Stormlands and the Reach." Renly boasted loudly with a smug smile playing on his lips.

Catelyn sighed, "And all of them young and bold like your Knight of Flowers?" She pressed as Renly smiled to himself, still looking rather smug. "It's a game to you, isn't it?" She scoffed with a shake of her head, "I pity them."

Renly looked at her then. "Why?"

"Because it won't last." Catelyn told him with certainty, knowing what would happen. " _Because they are the Knights of summer and winter is coming..._ " She continued, seeing a cold look fall across Renly's face as she told him what he didn't want to hear.

Renly's entire stance went rigid and he looked as though he'd been turned to stone right before her eyes. "Brienne, escort Lady Catelyn to her tent." He looked to the tall woman standing behind Catelyn, "She's tired from her journey." He concluded harshly.

Brienne bowed her head in respect, " _At_ _once, Your Grace._ Shall I return after?" She questioned, tilting her head in his direction, wanting to know if he would still need her to serve him.

" _That won't be_  necessary." Renly replied with a small smile once again, _"_ I would pray awhile. Alone." He finished before striding off in a direction as the rest of the Kingsguard trailed behind him silently.

Brienne turned to Catelyn and gestured for her to follow behind her, "If you'll follow me, My Lady."

Catelyn bowed her head and began to walk again, "You fought bravely today, Lady Brienne." Catelyn's voice called out to Brienne.

Brienne rolled her eyes, "I fought for my King... soon I'll fight for him on the battlefield. Die for him if I must." She paused and turned to look back at the elder woman with her icy gaze. "And, if it please you, Brienne's enough.  _I'm no lady_." Brienne contradicted before striding away.

As she watched her go, Catelyn smiled warmly to herself as the tall woman reminded her so much of Eliana. " _I'm no lady_..." She re-called with a soft voice, the exact words had been spoken by her daughter when she was a mere child, she remembered her insisting that there was no need to be a proper lady. Catelyn's smile only grew at her memories.

* * *

Loras Tyrell, Knight of the Flowers, had been stabbing his sword in Renly Baratheon for years and there was  _no way_  Eliana would agree to being stabbed by him in order of alliance between two families. He had a perversion that didn't bode well in society and she would not be the wife of someone baring that perversion despite how  _handsome_ he may jolly well be.

What she couldn't believe was that Robb was determined to marry her off to him in order to gain more banners for his cause... she knew it was to be her duty but  _Loras Tyrell?_ She could think of a vast number of others she would rather wed than that daisy with a lance.

"Bloody knight of the  _flowers_..." She grumbled to herself as she crossed the camp angrily. " _Oh, he's very handsome oh, I think I might faint..._ " She spat in disgust, feeling nothing but loathing towards the decision - she wouldn't do it, they couldn't make her if she persisted.

She wouldn't do it.

She wouldn't.

She knew when her mother returned she would only get an earful of what they would get in return from the Tyrells, not taking her opinion into consideration at all. She also knew what would happen and she would do everything in her power to stop it from happening.

Eliana charged across the water-logged grass, mud splashing against her boots angrily as she flew from her brother's tent. She could hear him rushing after her through the mud but she didn't dare turn back to face him.

"Eliana wait!" He called out, not really believing they were arguing yet again over something so small. "He's just a man, it's only something small."

She stopped then and turned to face him, her face burning red which looked odd considering her pale complexion. "Loras Tyrell,  _Knight of the Flowers_ , is not going to be my match!" She exclaimed in anger, "You fail to understand how big of an issue this is for me, he likes men and in case it's escaped your notice... I'm a woman! A woman!"

Robb stared at her as though she was some foreign person, "All you have to do is marry him?" He spoke with a confused look, not understanding why it was such a big deal because Loras was a knight, rich and he was handsome.  _What more can women want?_

"And do you not think Mace Tyrell and Olenna Redwyne will want children from me?!" Eliana fired another sheath of arrows at his head with even more anger, "I will not bear the children of a knight who prefers the company of men in his bed..." She muttered to herself, stalking off and leaving Robb standing alone.

Robb shook his head and closed his eyes, not even bothering to follow her. "What am I going to do?" He questioned, feeling more hopeless than ever.  _Eliana will do everything in her power to avoid marrying Loras..._

By midday, Eliana was convinced the entire camp knew of Robb's plan to marry her to the Tyrell boy as they all stayed shot of her which amused her and slightly improved her mood.

"Little wolf!" She could hear Jaime Lannister shouting in the stockades from across the camp, and to be honest, she couldn't be bothered to see him today. "Eliana Stark, pay me a visit at once!"

She paused in her walking and looked over to the stockades, thinking about going to see Jaime but her anger was flourishing at that moment and so, she continued on her way and try to take her mind off Loras Tyrell.

She hated the whole idea of marriage and that's precisely why she kept far away from the idea in order to stay with her family... it was where she belonged. She told her father of this when he approached her on the subject; he'd suggested Ramsay Snow, Renly Baratheon, Garlan Tyrell, Oberyn Martell and Jaime Lannister and to all five, she said no.

But when she visited Dorne, she regretted her choice in saying no to Oberyn Martell, finding how charming and intriguing he was with his wit and quick tongue, he was an exceptional fighter and trained her. Oberyn was, in her own opinion, the perfect match but now she was faced with marrying a man of the complete opposite.

She sighed, sitting down on a crate as she remembered discussing marriage with her father.

_"Marriage?" Were her first words which made Ned's blood freeze at her tone of voice. He hadn't quite told her that he was in pursue of matches for her and now he regretted it. "You honestly thought I would marry someone you would pick for me?"_

_Ned sighed, taking in a deep breath. "No, that's why I decided against it." He explained quickly as she narrowed her eyes at him. Feeling uncomfortable by the way she was looking at him, Ned broke. "All right, I admit… I haven't complete dismissed the idea... there are five that I think are suitable for you."_

_Eliana let out a growl, with a defiant shake of her head. "I won't do it, whoever you choose will not be someone I will agree to. You know how I feel about this, you and mother both do." She told him, feeling betrayed by her parents. "I would rather fall in love with someone, grow to love them for who they are than be forced to love a stranger as soon as I lay eyes – well, until when you decide to ship me off."_

_"Garlan Tyrell isn't that bad?" He frowned, scratching his head. He saw her unimpressed look. "Renly? Robert would be honoured to have you as a sister."_

_"No."_

_Ned nodded and closed his eyes, "What if I suggested Oberyn Martell, Doran's younger brother - he's quite the fighter, you know?" He suggested with a small smile, knowing how much his daughter favoured battle. "You're going to Dorne in a few months - he will want to meet you."_

_Eliana looked at him as though he was crazy, "That sex-crazed deviant?" Her voice was high-pitched with shock._

_Ned raised his hands and nodded more times than he needed to, "Well, what about Ser Jaime? I've talked to Robert of this and he agrees that the match it more suitable than the others despite his position in the Kingsguard... he's rich, handsome- "_

_"No." Eliana interrupted defiantly, "And the last?"_

_"Ramsay Snow."_

_"The Bastard of the Dreadfort, have you lost your mind?" Eliana's eyes widened as soon as she heard the name fall from her father's lips. "No, none of them. I will not marry any of them."_

_"Lia, don't say it like that." Ned complained, taking a firm grasp of her arms, "You make it sound like we're horrible to you and you know we both love you with all our hearts. We don't want you to be trapped here forever; we want you to have a life."_

_Eliana rolled her eyes, "And I will in my own time." She promised._

Now, she admitted that she missed the talks with him, the disagreements and their jokes. She missed all of it, she wished she could have had more time with him before the Gods played their part.

And ruined her life.

* * *

She threw her head back in laughter as she listened to Jaime rant on about his relationship with Tyrion. "... Someone had to love him, despite his oddity, my father and sister refused to so I stepped up to the task."

"Tyrion intrigues me so, he's smart and calculated. His mind is his weapon as are his words." Eliana mused, sipping on the mead in the waterskin. "I understand more of what he says than my Septa ever taught me as a girl."

Jaime laughed at that.

" _You don't do it right, it's not right._ That's all I was ever told, so one day, I picked up a sword..." She sighed, content. "My father saw me, and I told him I would rather wield a blade than a needle in all hopes of being pretty and proper and before I knew it, Ser Rodrik was training me along with my father. There's no wrong way to fight."

"I want to spar with you." Jaime reminded her for the hundredth time, taking the waterskin from her. "It would be fun for the both of us."

Eliana rolled her eyes, "I'm not going to unlock those chains of yours." She told him with a small smile, before she began laughing to herself which sparked Jaime's interest even more.

"What  _now_?" He questioned.

"Do you remember when I almost ran you down with my horse?" She studied the lion opposite her, watching as he glared at her.

He nodded, "I think I'd be mad not too, you nearly killed me." Jaime accused with deadly eyes, "You came out of nowhere."

"Not quite..." Eliana stated with a shrug of her shoulders, "You were in the way, so, I merely made you move." Eliana laughed again, remembering how he'd jumped out of the way,  _a knight!_

Jaime licked his lips, "How was your trip to Dorne?" He pressed with his eyebrows raised in question.

"I thoroughly enjoyed myself." She answered, knowing that he wanted to know who her Paramour was while she was there, but she wasn't so stupid to reveal it to someone as him. "I met this wonderful man."

"Who was he?"

Eliana shrugged, "You wouldn't know him." She added.

Jaime closed his eyes in defeat and let his head rest against the wooden post sat behind him, "I heard quite a lot of talk about marriage today,  _have you_?" He asked unexpectedly which caught her off guard.

" _Oh_ , go on and say it." Eliana spat in disgust, her anger flourishing once more at the topic.

He frowned in confusion, "Say what?" Jaime was lost, he heard the talk of marriage but had no idea who it concerned but by her reaction, he knew it must have been circling Eliana in some way.

"My lovely brother, Robb, has decided to ship me off to Loras  _Fucking_ Tyrell." She announced in a bored tone, down another gulp of the mead.

Jaime was silent for a few seconds, not really know what to say to her. He was reminded of when Cersei announced her engagement to Robert Baratheon... it broke him but with this news, he felt something different. Was it disgust?  _No..._  Anger?  _Partly, yes..._ Disappointment?  _No..._ _uproar, yes. She shouldn't be marrying someone who doesn't respect women let alone is attracted to them! He wouldn't love her._ "He can't make you do that."

She smiled at that, "Apparently he can."

"Perhaps you can change his mind?" He suggested, wanting to help her.

Eliana looked so distressed, "I don't want to marry him of all people, I would do  _anything_  to put it off."

An idea sprouted into mind as he looked at her, determined to stop the marriage from happening in order to help her. But what he'd just thought of, he knew, she would never agree to but it was worth a try.  _It's worth a try..._

" _Help me escape._ "


	10. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Your heart is free, have the courage to follow it." She's a Wolf of Winterfell... wolf blood courses through her raging body. A wolf is untameable; she's as unconquered and unbeaten as the northern snow. No man can tame a Wolf of Winterfell; the Red Viper has tried just like the golden Lion... but still, the lone Wolf rages on.
> 
> The hatred of negotiating...

" _Have you lost your mind?_ " Eliana was staring at Jaime with wide eyes, he'd lost it. He'd finally lost it... she put it down to being locked in the stockades for a little of over a year but then she wasn't so sure. He looked serious, like he wanted her to help him desperately.

Jaime shrugged with a smile, "You don't want to marry  _Ser Daisy_ , so help me escape and I'll help you get your sisters back." He negotiated, knowing it was an appealing option to her.

Eliana shook her head, thinking as his enemy now. "No... I have a duty to follow through on my father's behalf, I will not jeopardise that just to help an enemy to freedom." She vowed to herself, her eyes stinging at her words. She saw the look on his face and shifted uneasily. "Look... I have to help my brother win the war." She knew she was just being honourable but it was her duty to follow through; her father had made her promise to watch over Robb and teach him.

" _Do you honestly think Robb Stark will beat my father? That boy will fall..._ " Jaime growled, glowering in annoyance as she refused to listen to him.  _How hard is it to accept something so simple?_  "I'm offering you a way out, take it!" Jaime demanded, looking into her eyes and shifting in his spot as he tried to persuade her. He saw that she wasn't going to budge so he told her what he thought would change her mind. "He will kill you and your family, your brother and your mother will die!"

She stared at him silently, seeing how he'd changed all of a sudden. He was welcoming but now he was being hostile towards her because of her defiant nature.  _I'm no coward, I will stand and fight alongside my brother and my father's bannermen. We will win... and we will not die._

Jaime sighed and stared right back at her, wondering what she was thinking as she sat there opposite him. It was unnerving. He was stupid, he knew she would never leave her brother or her mother now... but he couldn't stand to watch her fight in this war which could get her killed.  _The Starks will die_ , he secretly told himself but he also knew that Eliana would do her best to stop that from happening. "What do you love, Lia?" Jaime folded his arms over his chest and he studied her with his eyes. "Tell me what you love."

She looked pained then but she answered him. "Everything I loved is in the past now." Eliana recalled, her eyes glazing over. "I miss the days when I didn't have to fight to stay alive. When I spent my days in the courtyard and my nights reading before a warm hearth." Eliana paused, taking a hesitant breath. She felt the pain erupt through her chest and it made her feel sick. "Before everything I loved was gone."

He frowned,  _you have your mother, brothers and sisters still?_ "Forgive me, but you still have your family?" Jaime asked carefully, intrigued by her choice of words. Her family was still with her,  _scattered yes_ , but still alive.

"But not my father."  _He held everything together, he was the glue... the soul._

Jaime fell silent then. He didn't know what to say in reply to that - he knew it was still too raw for her to speak of her father's departure from the land of living, even talking of times before he passed. His head was probably sat swaying in the wind right at that moment in the capital. She looked away from him and he caught sight of the fresh line across her neck; the scar he'd given her when they fought outside Littlefinger's brothel in King's Landing.

_Eliana sucked in a breath as Jaime met her quickly, "Little wolf..." He cooed as their blades collided angrily. He laughed when the metal clattering rung through the air, she was better than most._

_Without warning, he struck downwards, aiming for her legs as an attempt to catch her off guard. But he was startled when she brought her blade down quickly enough to deflect the blow, and he went to force her back._

_Jaime was intrigued by her style, "Did your father teach you that? Or Jory?" He taunted, knowing he would always be stronger than her although she was far lighter and quicker on her feet while she moved herself out-of-the-way as he continued to try to force her back._

_Eliana sidestepped out-of-the-way, avoiding a blow meant for her shoulder which cause Jaime to curse under his breath before he whirled around to face, blade up and ready._

_She then went to bring her own sword down on Jaime's shoulder but he parried her quickly and pushed her away from him. Jaime then came at her with a complex form and unknown to him, Eliana was very familiar with those thanks to Rodrik Cassel. She ducked and dodged the blade, it clipped her own and it fell to the stone below._

_Jaime smirked as she stood before him unarmed. "Little wolf..." He sighed, sheathing his sword and retrieving the dagger from the fallen Jory and wiping it clean on his trouser leg._

_He took a strong hold of Ned Stark's daughter, holding her against his chest as the dagger hovered near her neck, waiting. His mouth was at her ear, "Don't move, if you do... the blade will pierce your porcelain skin. We wouldn't want that now would we?" Jaime whispered, staring at Ned as the Lannister guards he'd been fighting, fell to the ground, dead._

_"No further, Stark." Jaime warned, holding the dagger against her neck. "I want my brother back."_

_Ned glared and froze still, his eyes trained on his daughter. "Release her." He went to move forward again._

_In one fluid movement, he dragged his dagger across her neck as if to provoke Ned. The red liquid ran across her skin. Eliana could feel blood swimming down her arm and to the tips of her fingers._

_Jaime pushed her away from him then and drew his sword with his smirk burning bright._

He longed to fight her again, a fair fight where he didn't have to hurt her to get what he wanted.

"I'm not helping you escape, Jaime." She muttered, standing silently and moving to pen door, leaving him with the mead. She didn't even send him a last glance, she slipped away into the darkness.

He remembered her eyes, how dark they'd grown in a few moments and as he remembered them, he knew she was replaying the moment her father was beheaded and he knew she was imagining killing all responsible, which probably included him.

* * *

Catelyn had heard he was in the camp, lurking somewhere in the shadows.  _Why is he here?_ She asked herself, as she heard someone enter the tent she was occupying for the time being. "How dare you?" She hissed as she clapped eyes on him.

"You may have heard false reports..." Came the voice Petyr Baelish, a short man of slender build with handsome and sharp features. Petyr had grey-green eyes, a small pointed beard on his chin with threads of grey running throughout his dark hair.

Catelyn rose to her feet, feeling nothing but hate towards a man she once respected. "You betrayed Ned." She growled, bearing her teeth like a wolf. The north had changed her, she wasn't the woman she had been while growing up in Riverrun as a girl with her father, ill mother, uncle and siblings.

Petyr Baelish, her father's ward, had grown vile, he was cunning and deceiving - no more the sweet boy who came to Riverrun remained as she stared at him. He had changed and not for the right reasons. He was power-hungry and now wormed his way into minds of the unsuspecting.

" _Betrayed?_ " Petyr spat in reply, his eyes wide with shock that she would accuse him of such things. _"_ I wanted him to serve as Protector of the Realm. I begged him to seize the moment..." He tried to reason with her, but she would have none of it.

" _I_  trusted you. My  _husband_  trusted you." Catelyn shouted, her eyes harsh and wary of the man stood before her. "And you repaid our faith with treachery."

Petyr shook his head desperately, wanting her to understand. "No, My Lady." He argued with a quiet tone, pleading.

"Get out!" Catleyn exclaimed, turning her back on him as he rushed after her.

"Cat, I've..." He composed himself, before he continued. "I've loved you since I was a boy. It seems to me that fate has given us this chance..." He tried but failed miserably as she went for him again.

Catelyn took hold of a knife when she felt him grab her arm, she swung around to face him. "Have you lost your mind?" Catelyn jerked the knife in his direction, threatening to cut him. "Get out!" She repeated in anger.

Petyr backed away from her and turned to exit her tent but decided against it and stayed. "Do you want to see your girls again?" He taunted softly, seeing her face soften at the mere mention of her children, her two daughters.  _Sansa... Arya..._  "Sansa, more beautiful than ever. And Arya, just as wild as ever." Petyr mused to himself, knowing he gotten to her so easily by using simple words.

"You have Arya, too?"

Petyr nodded in reassurance, "Both girls are healthy and safe...  _for now._ "He began again, satisfied that he had her full attention now. "But you know the Queen and you know Joffrey... I fear for their longevity if they remain in the capital." Petyr finished, knowing Catelyn would want to know more now.

Catelyn hesitated, deciding whether she could trust Petyr or not and she was still unsure. He'd betrayed her. "What do you want?" She murmured, lowering the knife and stepping away from him. She didn't have the fight left in her anymore, she couldn't do it... she was suffering from losing Ned. She felt so weak, she just wanted to return home to Winterfell with her children.

"The Lannisters will trade your daughters for the Kingslayer." Petyr informed Cat, moving towards her.

Catelyn scoffed, her anger rising from within her. "Of course they will... Jaime Lannister for two girls?" She spat in annoyance as she looked at Petyr. Her two girls were worth more than any man alive. "Robb will never agree to those terms."

He nodded in agreement, smirking. "I'm not bringing these terms to him. I'm bringing them to you." Petyr spoke.

"You think I'd keep secrets from my son?" Catelyn pressed, her patience going by the second. She hated his games and she certainly didn't have any time for them right now.

Petyr sighed, "Robb has surprised them all with his skills in battle, but he's not a mother." He commented, the truth seeping through to haunt her. " _Consider it, Cat._ _You may not get_   _another_   _chance._ " He advised, seeing all battle and defiance leaving her face as soon as it had come. _"_ I've brought you a gift." He announced, clasping his hands together.

"I don't  _want_  your gifts." Once again, she turned her back on him in disgust. She didn't  _want_  anything from him.

Petyr walked out of the tent but returned again with two servant carrying a trunk, "A token of Tyrion Lannister's goodwill. He wants you to understand that this exchange of prisoners is offered in  _good faith_." He informed her, as the trunk was set down behind her.

Catelyn shook her head at his venom. "Good faith?" She laughed breathlessly, turning back to see a large trunk at her feet. She paused. "What's this?" Catelyn asked, her brows knitting together in confusion but she knew what was in it, deep down, she knew. And it terrified her to her core.

Petyr didn't reply.

Catelyn sunk to her knees and held her breath as she reached for the clasps on the lid. Slowly, she lifted it and her gut was right. She had to stop herself from crying, she needed to be strong for Ned. She wouldn't let him down again by being seen crying, they would think she was weak. She chastised herself.

Petyr wasn't finished with torturing his childhood love, continuing to speak of Ned. "Your husband was an honorable man. He should rest beside his family in the crypts beneath Winterfell." Petyr tried to comfort her with all he could, not wanting her to push him further anymore. "You may not believe..." He began but didn't get to finish.

Catelyn felt tears brimming at the corners of her eyes. "Get out." She whispered, finding that she didn't have the strength anymore to threaten him.

Petyr didn't speak, instead he bowed his head and fled the tent.

And then Catelyn cried, unable to compose herself any longer. She wanted nothing more than to hold him and kiss him but all that was impossible... and she would never see Ned again, and neither would her children,  _their_ children.

* * *

Robb's face twisted as his eyes scanned the pieces of parchment in his hands. His jaw tightened as each word sunk into his mind, sparking his anger and interest to what she'd been up to. But now, he was shocked to finally discover what his sister had been up to in Dorne. He wished he'd never walked into her tent in the first place.

When she arrived home from her trip, she didn't speak much of the trip, only that it was entertaining and that she would do it again. Robb hadn't thought much of it then but now it made sense; she had been with Oberyn Martell.  _Oberyn Martell!_ "No wonder she was so reluctant to speak of it... does mother know? Did father?" Robb questioned himself as he continued to read.

" _... your departure has left me bored. I fear my sanity of life will be questioned as I find myself clueless of attempting to occupy all the free hours I now have. Come back and see me again, I miss you._ " He muttered, shaking his head. He didn't know whether to be shocked or amused. "Please don't tell me she let this man bed her..."

Robb forced the first message behind the others and began to read the second, pausing to see how recent it was. " _I am sorry to hear of your father's brutal murder by the bastard Joffrey – if it were my decision I would join you and your brother immediately – at dusk or dawn but sadly, my brother won't submit himself to as such..._ " Robb spoke while his brown deepened.

Unknown to him, Eliana had entered her tent and froze when she spotted her brother rooting through her possessions. She didn't speak or make to snatch the letters back from Robb, she stood and watched him silently instead.

Robb closed his eyes, "Lia, what did you do?" He asked, his fingers tapping against the weirwood desk in her tent as he lent over it while he read. He could feel his heart getting faster the more he thought of what she'd done in Dorne.

" _Depends_ , what do you think I did?" She spoke up, sinking into a chair. She watched as Robb turned on his heel to spot her sitting behind him with a tilted head. "Found something to your liking, brother? Oh,  _please_ , do spill..."

Robb's brow fell into a frown, scoffing he replied. " _...I will seek you out after this war; I will find you and take you away from the horrors of Westeros. I promise you._ " He read aloud for her to hear as well. "You let Oberyn Martell bed you?"

"You can tell that from the letters?" Eliana jested, laughing when his face falling at her amusement. She was happy that someone had finally found them if she was being honest with herself, she'd been purposely leaving them lying around for someone to find them and Robb had and now she could taunt him. "That's exactly what father said... it's rude to root through someone's possessions Robb, you should know better. You're a  _king_." She mused with a soft smile, "It was nothing,  _fun_  but nothing."

"This was not nothing, Lia." Robb contradicted, pulling a seat over to her before seating himself in front of her. "You will marry  _Ser Daisy_ , if you wanted this man so much I don't understand why you didn't marry yourself to him in the first place." He trailed off, re-reading the letter.

"I regret it, Robb. Believe me, I do."

He rubbed his temple in contemplation, a brooding look flowing onto his face. "All you have to do is marry  _Ser Daisy_ , to help get us through the war." Robb began, seeing the uneasy look on his sister's face. "And when we win the war, you can be with the  _Viper_." He concluded, leaning back in his chair and feeling slightly proud of his conclusion to their disagreement.

Eliana shook her head, appreciating his help despite how awful it was in her eyes. "Robb, you make it sound so easy... it's not. It never will be and don't negotiate, I hate negotiating."

Robb nodded in understanding. He just wanted to do something right for his sister, she deserved to be happy as did everyone in their family... but her most of all in his eyes. In silence, he stood and made for the tent entrance but her voice called him back. "Robb..." He turned back to face his sister, seeing her looking worried. "Don't speak of this to mother, I'm planning to tell her soon. When she arrives from Renly's camp, in fact."

Robb's eyes widened at the news, he didn't know their mother was left in the dark. He thought she knew. "Mother doesn't know of this?" He stuttered, hardly believing what he was hearing from Eliana. "Why haven't you told her?  _Her_ of all people should know."

She rolled her eyes, "Because it's Oberyn Martell." That was true, Catelyn had never been keen on the idea of him being a suitor for Eliana. Ned had once told Eliana Catelyn's exact thoughts on the man and she didn't disagree but when she met him, all of what she'd been told was false. Oberyn was lustful yes, but he was so much more than what other men were. He was interesting, he knew many things, he could write and read and he could fight  _properly_.

Oberyn was enchanting and he enchanted Eliana as soon as she saw him.

"You love him."

Eliana stifled a laugh, "I have to disagree with your assumption." She noted with a small smile. She wasn't in love with the man but he made all her problems go away in such a short amount of time. "He's a wonderful man, full of surprises but..." She stopped, feeling uneasy as she thought more and more of their relationship.

" _But_?" Robb moved back over to her, concerned.

Eliana sighed and shook her head, this wasn't a matter of importance now. "You have a war to plan do you not?" She inquired, rising to her feet. She saw the look he gave her but she chose to ignore it. "You don't need to worry over me, Robb, it's in the past." She smiled, pushing him out of her tent while she followed behind. "We have a war to win."


	11. Assurance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Your heart is free, have the courage to follow it." She's a Wolf of Winterfell... wolf blood courses through her raging body. A wolf is untameable; she's as unconquered and unbeaten as the northern snow. No man can tame a Wolf of Winterfell; the Red Viper has tried just like the golden Lion... but still, the lone Wolf rages on.
> 
> To be assured is one thing, to be betrayed is another...

Robb smiled when he spotted Talisa through the crowds of his troops belonging to him. She was sat on a fallen tree trunk, writing. "Lady Talisa." Robb called out to her, drawing her attention to him immediately.

She smiled. "Your Grace." She bowed her head to Robb in respect. "I'm not sure I'm a lady... Westerosi customs are still a bit foreign to me." Talisa told him with an amused smile.

"It's hard to keep all the rules straight." Robb added, sighing as he watched her. "But if I remember my lessons, a woman of noble birth is always called a lady unless she's a queen or a princess... I could find someone who knows." He frowned, confusing himself more and more on titles of noble birth.

"Why are you so sure I'm of noble birth?" Talisa inquired, frowning as well.

Robb chuckled. "Because it's obvious." Robb stated, confidently.

Talisa nodded in understanding. "What if I told you my father sold lace on the long bridge and my mother, my brother, and I lived with him above our shop?" She asked, rising to her feet and turning to face him fully, intrigued by their conversation and where it was heading.

"I'd call you a liar." Robb stepped towards her.

Talisa kept a straight face as she continued to speak to Robb. "Not very noble to accuse a lady of dishonesty..." She spoke with an offended tone which soon died down when she finally gave in, seeing Robb not looking very convinced by her attempt to fool him. "I always thought I was a brilliant liar." Talisa let out a content sigh.

Robb smiled at her. "Better at amputations, I'm afraid." He said while she returned his smile but then silence fell and Robb knew he had to keep the conversation alive. "Quite a pretty spot." He gestured to where she had been sat writing.

Talisa nodded. clasping her hands together. "Will we be here long?"

Robb sighed. "I couldn't really discuss troop movements with you." He let her know with a simple shrug.

"I'm not a spy." Talisa stated.

"Of course a spy would deny being a spy."

"You're right. You've found me out." Talisa admitted, lifting her letter to read it to him. "I'm writing a letter to the Lannisters.  _The young wolf is on the move_." She jested, as she and Robb bother shared a laugh.

The laughed trailed off and Robb's smiled faded. "Perhaps you'd join me..." He trailed off, thinking of how many wound troops she could be seeing to at any time and thinking it a bad idea yet he still continued to speak and he didn't notice her gaze falling behind him as he tried to speak. "If you've got time, of course, for, well..." He was interrupted by another voice, not Talisa's but one he would recognise anywhere.

His mother's.

"Robb." Catelyn Tully smiled as she wondered over to her eldest son, his auburn curls flowing freely in the wind while he stood strong and clad in armour. She opened her arms as he moved to greet her with a warm embrace.

"Mother." Robb smiled in return, pulling away to see her looking in the direction of Talisa and turning back to Talisa, not wanting to leave her out. "Mother, this is Lady Talisa. She's been helping with the wounded." Robb informed Catelyn as he walked her over to Talisa. "She's been very... helpful."

Catelyn looked at her son oddly as he spoke, seeing the way he was watching the woman. "Lady Talisa." She greeted with a smile but it was clearly false.

Talisa bowed her head in return. "Lady Stark." She murmured, feeling slightly out-of-place.

"Lady Talisa...?" Catelyn frowned, not knowing of a noble name, wanting to know which house she had been born into but the name she heard was unfamiliar to her ears.

"Maegyr."

Catelyn's tried to think of a house with that name but none came to mind. "Maegyr? Forgive me, I do not know this name." She apologised to the woman who had enchanted her son.

Talisa smiled and shook her head. "An uncommon name here... an old name in Volantis." She told Catelyn quickly, wanting to escape from her. "Excuse me, My Lady. Your Grace." She bowed, rushing off in another direction as Robb's eyes followed her.

Catelyn looked to Robb again, seeing him still watching the woman but when he felt her eyes on him he turned back to look at her quickly. "I've missed you." He stated, as they walked together while trying to ignore the giant-like woman trailing behind.

"Yes, you look positively forlorn." Catelyn observed honestly, wearing a small smile and allowing her eyes to look around the camp.

Robb smiled at her words and shook his head, knowing what she was thinking. She knew he was intrigued by the foreign beauty in the camp, but it couldn't evolve into anything else. It would  _have_ die as soon as it was born. "You surprised me, that's all... I didn't think I'd see you today." He admitted quietly.

But Catelyn changed the subject soon enough, one he needed to be aware of before anything happened. "I wish that you were free to follow your heart." Her voice was sad and laced with understanding but it was the truth. The horrible truth that collided with debts to other houses.

Robb bit on his lower lip and let a sigh through his lips. "I know." He agreed with a curt nod.

"You have inherited your father's responsibilities." She let out, wishing he could choose freely but that wasn't the case. "I'm afraid they come at a cost." They'd stopped now, turning to face each other; making sure that Robb understood the situation he was in.

"I know."

Catelyn, however, wasn't so sure he would listen to her council on  _love advice_... she wasn't that good at it herself and it didn't help her much when she was to wed Ned.  _Ned..._ "You are promised to another... a debt that must be paid." She stared long and hard at him, determined to drum that debt into his mind so he would not forget every time his eyes landed on  _Talisa Maegyr_...

Robb looked like a child in that moment, scuffing his boots into the mud and rolling his eyes. "I haven't forgotten." He complained weakly, he too, knowing that there was debt to Walder Frey that was not to be messed with.

Catelyn frowned, her eyes scanning the camp in front of them. She hadn't even spotted Eliana in the crowds. "Now, where is your sister? I want to see her." She made to move forward, wanting to see her daughter and greet her as well before she even considered to retire to her tent.

Behind them, while they moved to walk onwards Eliana had began to approach them from behind. She wanted to surprise her mother. However, as she walked she was suddenly thrown back by something that felt like a wall in her mind but when she looked up it was an entirely different type of wall altogether. To her surprise, it was a woman, a very tall woman wearing a rather unattractive grimace on her face. She couldn't help herself so she spoke, "Gods, you're like a wall..." Eliana jested lightly.

The woman to Eliana's disappointment, didn't take the jest so  _lightly_  and pushed her back with a shove to the shoulder. "No further." Her voice was gruff and held no emotion to it. She was the only thing that was standing between Eliana and her mother, a human mountain, almost a head (nearly two) taller than her.

"Very funny." Eliana made to move past her but this time the shove was harder than the first and more forceful. Eliana's eyes dropped into a glare as she glanced up at the woman, she noted that her hand was sat comfortably on the hilt of her sword at her waist which didn't help the situation through her eyes. Not understanding why, Eliana when to move past her and amazingly the woman just let her by.

 _Well, that was oddly amusing..._  she let out a sigh, but her walking seised when Eliana felt a surge of pain erupt from her leg. Panic and recognition flooded her usually clear mind as she remembered the pain from the past. Her eyes trailed down to see a sharp metal point protruding from just above her knee. Her legs fell from beneath her as the blade was ripped from her leg roughly, the force of the removal shot Eliana forward onto her hands as she winced.

The giant woman walked in front of her, "What are you doing?!" She exclaimed, seeing the blood run from her leg and curdle with the mud. Her voice caught the attention of both her mother and brother, who turned in horror to see the scene behind them as the troops also began to notice.

Manfred, seeing the situation ran over to Brienne. He forced himself in front of Eliana as if to protect her, Robb was by her side in an instant. "This is the King's sister and Lady Stark's daughter." He informed her with a harsh voice, looking behind him. He swung back to glare at Brienne, his eyes full of rage. "What on seven hells do you think you're doing raising a sword to her? Are you soft in the head?!"

Ignoring the conflict, Robb lifted his sister and supported her by wrapping his arm around her middle and sharing her weight. "Come on..." He whispered to her, seeing her wince. "Fred, help me get her to her tent." Robb looked to the man confronting Brienne, who ran to Eliana as soon as Robb's voice reached his ears.

It was Brienne's turn to become horrified. Brienne stared wide-eyed, feeling Catelyn push past her to follow them with haste, hurriedly picking up her dress trains. She saw a state of vexation on her lady's face, and she knew she would send her on her way after her daughter was seen to... and she'd only just pledged fealty to her and had  _already_  failed her.

Just like she failed Renly, _her King_.

* * *

 

Catelyn stared as blood flowed freely from her daughter's thigh and soaking the white cloth beneath, staining it crimson in seconds. She couldn't believe Brienne had attacked her daughter,  _her own daughter_. It was her own fault; she hadn't even registered what was occurring behind her until she turned and clapped eyes on Eliana in agony on the ground with Brienne standing over her, sword in hand.

Talisa had seen to her wound and had noted that there was no permanent damage to her leg and she slowly started to wrap a silk dressing over the wound. "The wound is fairly deep, the blade missed the bone by inches. You're lucky." Talisa announced once she'd inspected Eliana's throbbing leg and deemed it fine, she then moved to offer her the last of the milk of the poppy from her stores.

"No," Eliana interrupted with a shake of her head, her hand blocking her mouth and blocking Talisa's access. She wouldn't take that, she never did unless she had absolutely no choice in the matter and knowing that she had, she wouldn't have Talisa waste it on her when others needed it more.

Catelyn eyes widened, she grabbed her daughter's hand and drew her attention to her. "Lia, it will help with the pain..." She told her, almost scolding her. She didn't want to see her in anymore pain, she didn't know if she could stand it anymore.

But Eliana wasn't going to be persuaded so easily. The liquid made her want to be sick, it had a horrible taste to it. "Don't waste that on me, give it to those who  _truly_ need it..." She advised Talisa, who nodded her head and quickly exited the tent. She could see why Robb liked the girl, she was dutiful and kind.

Brienne stepped forward then, looking sincere. She couldn't believe she'd attacked Lady Catelyn's daughter, who she thought was going to hurt her in some way... she couldn't believe herself. She had never been so humiliated in all her life. "Truly, I am sorry my lady." She bowed her head, ashamed of her actions when she chose stab Eliana in the leg earlier. "If I had known and hadn't drawn my sword then- "

Eliana laughed, cutting off Brienne in mid sentence. "Nonsense, you thought I was a threat so you attacked - quite well, I might add." She admired with a smile. She liked the giant of a woman her mother had found to protect her. "I should very much like to fight you  _properly_ , Lady Brienne." She gestured to her leg, hoping for it to heal soon so she could fight this beast of a woman.

"You will do no such thing." Catelyn pre-warned the pair of them, knowing that Brienne would only agree. Catelyn looked to her daughter who had mouthed something to Brienne behind her back. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Lady Brienne, if my daughter dares to consult you on the matter, I order you to decline."

A hint of a smile flashed upon Brienne's lips but as soon as it had appeared it had vanished. "I'm no lady." Brienne scoffed, looking to the ground. She hated being called that,  _Lady Brienne_.

Catelyn watched her daughter, seeing amusement fill those Tully eyes of hers. "I used to say that all the time when I was a child - your father is a Lord as was mine, which makes us ladies whether we wish to be or not, Brienne. It's the undying truth, I'm afraid." Eliana explained with a soft voice, excited of the new arrival in their camp.

Brienne bowed her head. "If you say so my lady, but I think we both prefer our own views on the prospects of titles... I know I certainly do." She told Eliana with a strong voice, it was commanding.

"I like you." Eliana mused warmly which caught Brienne off guard. She knew the woman had probably had a hard time befriending people, especially fitting in with the other girls while growing up in Tarth. "You're just like me. Tell me did you like to brawl in the mud with your brothers at Evenfall Hall?"

Brienne shifted uncomfortably then. She hadn't thought of her family in such a long time, she'd never been expecting questions about them. "My only brother drowned at a young age, Your Grace." Brienne murmured letting the title fall unconsciously.

"My brother's the King..." Eliana corrected, sighing. "I'm sorry to have brought up the subject, however, I feel as though we should try it out sometime but mother here will be on the look out." She joked, her and Brienne sharing a smile. "None of the girls in Winterfell would dare brawl in the mud with  _Eliana Stark_  but my brothers, Robb and Jon would agree in a heartbeat."

"I envy you, my lady." Brienne told her, honestly. She'd always wanted more siblings after the deaths of her brother and two infant sisters and with her mother's death, that never happened.

Eliana reached forward to place her hand on hers, giving it a small squeeze. "If we win this, which we will... we'll brawl in the mud and laugh about it before a warm hearth in the castle walls of Winterfell, my friend." She concluded, thinking far into the future. She wanted that, more than anything. She wanted for things to return to how they had been before the reckoning came.

The Lannisters.

Catelyn stroked her hair as she ran her fingers through its soft strands. She had to use all her strength to not correct her when she counted the bastard as her brother, but she knew Eliana loved Jon. She loved him a lot. "There is only one, Eliana Stark, and she is my daughter... my daughter who should have been born a boy." Catelyn spoke, absently reminding Brienne for future preference.

"Brawling in the mud used to pass the time and climbing the walls of Winterfell." She thought as Catelyn glared at her momentarily. "I've always been a bad influence on my siblings. Don't look at me like that."

Brienne watched as Eliana and Catelyn began to bicker quietly. "I'll take my leave, my lady?" Brienne addressed Catelyn warily. She nodded, and the woman rushed out of the tent as soon as she could.

Eliana stared after the woman, bewildered and feeling slightly overwhelmed by the giant. "Poor woman's shaken." She commented, still amused at the entire situation. "She took me down in an instant, where did you find her?" She questioned, her eyes focusing on her mother's face.

"Renly's camp... she pledged fealty to me after Renly was murdered." Catelyn replied quietly, still stroking her hair.

Eliana nodded. "Did you enjoy your time there, mother?" She asked sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"No." Catelyn's reply sounded sarcastic in a way, but her face was stern and pained all at once, conflict flew across it in a flurry. She noticed the tense atmosphere in the air and immediately knew something was the matter. "Why do I have the feeling you have something you wish to tell me..." Catelyn acknowledged with her motherly smile, losing her stern nature.

She mentally cursed herself for even discussing Oberyn Martell with her brother now, she knew she would regret telling him her truths sooner or later. But Robb wouldn't betray her trust in him would her?  _I confided in him..._  "Yes," Eliana finally answered after a delayed response. She saw her mother staring at her, brows raised as she waited. "Concerning my trip to Dorne."

Eliana then saw her mother's brow line rise in interest at the subject, she was surprised. "What is it?" She inquired, her voice soaked with worry as she moved closer towards her. She could see the worry in her eyes. "I hope it's nothing bad..."

She hesitated but decided her mother should know of her truths, and chose to put it to rest so she could move on. "I allowed Oberyn Martell to bed me." She uttered but it was loud enough for her mother to hear.

She couldn't begin to comprehend her raging thoughts. She'd been so stupid when she was with Oberyn but he made her forget. He made her forget her troubles, all her worries. She could be free in Sunspear, they didn't care about what was going on in the North. But she wasn't sure if it was a regret or not... "I didn't think the repercussions through, I didn't want to end up with a bastard in my belly and I didn't… but that could have been drastically different." Her words swam out in a mutter.

It was silent for a moment. Eliana rose her eyes to see Catelyn was not looking at her  _but_  she was replaying what she'd told tell over in her mind and now she was terrified, no she was more than terrified. She was hysterical, paralysed with fear of her mother's reaction because she didn't have a clue on how she would.

First, she saw her eyes harden as they fell on her once again. Her jaw had tightened, her lips thinned into nothing. The anger reflected across her face, each feature with the emotion. And then came her words. "Did I bring you up to sleep with men as it please you?!" Catelyn paused briefly, "I did not raise a whore..." She was definitely horror-struck, she couldn't move as shock infiltrated her mind.  _Whore? She called me a whore..._

A frown fell on her face as Eliana swallowed hard and looked away. "One man mother,  _one man_  does not make me a whore... I don't take my pleasure by sleeping with all men who are willing, otherwise I would live in a brothel." There was a hateful tone to her voice, harsh and brittle with frustration. She knew her voice was higher than it usually was but she didn't care, she was too hurt to care.

Catelyn went to speak but Eliana interrupted her. "No." She confirmed with her hateful tone. "You asked so I will finish..." She stayed silent as Eliana continued on. "He greeted me when I arrived in Sunspear, it was innocent flirtations at first…" Eliana spoke as if trying to convince Catelyn to believe her words. "He would make advances towards me and I would reject them; when we would spar in the courtyards, at feasts which he often attempted to and mainly in my quarters, he would lurk around." She listed from what she could remember of her trip which had almost been forgotten this past year. "Then one day during a sparring session - I don't know what made me do it, the thought of it or it being forbidden... I can't say because I truly don't know what possessed me to even consider doing such a thing."

Catelyn had to bite her tongue as to make sure she didn't lose all the control that remained within in her. Her disappointment was indescribable, there were no words she could think for her daughter's bold actions. She'd expected so much from her. "Please, don't tell me this is reason for why you were late returning to Winterfell…" Her disappointment was clear in her words, her face had softened and let go of its angry assault to scare her daughter. But her eyes, they still remained deadly. " _Because of him?_ "

"No, no." Eliana forced herself up into a sitting position, determined to get her mother to listen to her without her misinterpreting what she would say. "I told you I rode through Riverrun and saw grandfather on one of his good days… he's not well at all mother."

She saw distress take its toll on Catelyn then, she saw the guilt and dishonour and the pain. "I meant to visit him when returning from King's Landing but the Imp put a stop to that plan immediately. I feel so guilty." She felt Eliana reach for her hand and sighed in relief when Catelyn allowed her to.

Eliana smiled sadly at the memory of Hoster Tully. She imagined his laughing blue eyes and his cloud-like soft hair as it slowly transformed from auburn to white, however, when she last laid eyes on him he had transitioned into the old lord who had been sick for two years, weak and sickly.

"Mother." Catelyn's attention was drawn to her daughter, she saw her laughing softly. She tilted her head in question, a small frown emerging. "I am a Stark of Winterfell." Catelyn agreed with a nod. "Our sigil is the direwolf." She nodded again. "And yet he insists on calling me  _little fawn_."

 _Little fawn..._ Catelyn's eyes softened as she recalled her father's words. "He has always referred to you as such even when you were a babe. He claimed you were doe-eyed – you had beautiful eyes that left him smitten." Catelyn remembered as if it were clear as day, she remembered when her father first laid eyes upon his granddaughter and named her a Tully and Ned had argued that she was a true Stark. "Your father, my father, my uncle – all the men fell at your feet, my beautiful daughter." Catelyn's hands trailed to her cheek, and with a sigh she replied and changed the subject. "I dare say I'm not surprised... if I'm truly honest myself, I knew something had gone on while you had been at Dorne."

Eliana sighed and looked down, "You knew?" She couldn't deny how confused she was feeling then, one moment Catelyn was furious and the next she was understanding.

She shrugged, "A mother  _always_ knows... but no, you really think your father wouldn't have told me, Lia?" Catelyn questioned with an amused look. "I had wanted to express my thoughts on the matter sooner but I hadn't had the chance and since you brought it up I felt it was right... Oberyn would have been a suitable match but no one will ever be good enough for you."

That alone made Eliana smile, they told her that continuously while she was growing up. Cat and Ned both. "I always thought I was good at lying."

Catelyn smiled lovingly at her and disagreed. "Ever the terrible liar, Lia. You and Bran..." Catelyn's eyes saddened then when she thought of Bran, her handsome boy who was waiting for her return. Her innocent, pure boy, now a cripple.

"Don't."

She met Eliana's eyes and saw how the guilt flooded back through her. "I should have never have let him out of my sight, if only father hadn't had stopped me... then I may have been able to prevent it..." In the candlelight, the scars on Catelyn's hands drew Eliana's attention to them. The knife had cut through her soft skin so deeply that Eliana was afraid the bleeding would never stop. "When I found you in his room with the assassin..." She trailed, frightened to get the words out.

But Catelyn knew what she was struggling to get out with her words. "You saved my life, Lia." Her words were filled with nothing but love and admiration for her. "And your brother's life, you rescued him from that tower and you saved him from that assassin... I could ask no more of you."

Eliana went to speak again but she was interrupted. "How are you holding up, Lia?" Robb's loud voice announced as he strode into the tent, dripping wet. His stubble was growing into a beard now, making him look older than his years.

She smirked at Robb. "Nice weather, eh?" Eliana jested, as she watched him remove his gloves and cloak. She continued to watch as he moved towards them, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of their mother's head before going to her side. He saw the state of her leg and sighed. "Brienne of Tarth really did attack you..." He noted with a wary glance. "Mother, since when did you trade our protection for that of a guard dog?" Robb laughed.

"I will have words with her."

Eliana shook her head, not wanting to cause the woman anymore worry. "No mother, Brienne's a wreck as it is. Leave her be, she's made her peace." She explained, feeling no hatred towards the woman.

"Who would've thought, Lia allowing someone to get away with besting her." Robb grinned and planted a kiss upon his sister's head. "How long will it take to heal?" He pressed, showing his concern more easily now.

"I- "

Their eyes flew to the tent entrance as an out-of-breath Roose Bolton stumbled in, rain running down his face. "Your Grace." He bowed his head to Robb who was sat beside his sister. His eyes then landed on Catelyn and Eliana. "My Lady. My Lady." His head lowered again in respect, his eyes trailing to the wound on Eliana's leg. He lifted a small scroll of parchment and sighed. "News from Winterfell."

Upon hearing his words, Robb rose to his feet. He looked to his mother who shared his look of worry. "What news?"

Bolton didn't reply.

Eliana sighed, "Robb, pass me the crutches." She gestured to the pieces of wood leaning against the desk. When he handed them to her, she quickly stood and positioned them under her arms for support and then moved to follow Robb as he and Bolton stormed out of the tent. "For the night is dark and full of terrors..." Eliana murmured, not noticing Catelyn's eyes upon her as her mother recognised her words of those belonging to the red woman, Melisandre.

Catelyn's brow deepened as she followed them, mulling the sentence over in her mind.  _For the night is dark and full of terrors? I am going to question her of this Lord of Light..._

* * *

"This cannot be true..." Robb denied as his eyes scanned the writing in his hands. Catelyn and Eliana stood at his side, both sharing the look of betrayal.

Bolton sighed, clasping his hands together and continued to deliver his bad news. _"_ We've had ravens from White Harbor _,_  Barrowton and the Dreadfort. I'm afraid it is true." He explained in his usual soft voice, a deep frown pulling at his brows.

Robb shook his head, not understanding what he was hearing let alone what he'd read. "Why? Why would Theon..." He trailed off, still in shock that his friend had betrayed his trust and sided with his father.

"Because the Greyjoys are treasonous whores."

" _My brothers?_ " Robb dared to ask in a hushed voice. He caught Eliana's gaze and corrected himself. " _Our brothers?_ "

"We've heard nothing of them." Bolton hesitated, allowing a short uneasy pause to pass before he carried on. "But Rodrik Cassel is dead."

That stabbed the three Starks standing before him, Rodrik was loyal until the very end.

Catelyn was pacing, unable to keep her anger under lock and key. "I told you, never trust a Greyjoy!" She exclaimed, her anger rippling through the tent as Bolton looked down. She couldn't believe what was happening, their ward, betraying them and taking Wintterfell. And what of her youngest,  _Bran and Rickon..._

"I must go North at once." Robb got to his feet and rushed around the table but Bolton stopped him quickly.

"There's still a war to win, Your Grace." He contradicted Robb's judgment, making him aware of his other commitments.

Robb rushed towards Bolton, glaring in fury. "How can I call myself king if I can't hold my own castle?!" He growled, staring down the man in front of him. "How can I ask men to follow me if I can't..." He trailed off in disappointment.

Eliana started forward, discarding her crutches in order to get through to her brother. "You are a king." She reminded steadily. "And that means you don't have to do everything yourself." Her words were slow and meant to bring meaning of sending another to make sure they were to not lose what they'd already gained.

"Let me go and talk to Theon." Catelyn spoke up, looking to her daughter who was staring intently at Robb, waiting for him to decide.

Robb shook his head. "There will be no talk. He will die for this." He concluded, his hands bawling in fists as he jaw tightened at the mere mention of the traitor's name.

Bolton looked between his king and his sister, who was closer to him than necessary. "Theon holds the castle with a skeleton crew." He commented, adding further unwanted information for Robb. "Let me send word to my bastard at the Dreadfort. He can raise a few hundred men and retake Winterfell before the new moon." Bolton promised, wanting to help his King.

Eliana nodded in agreement, strangely seeing that Bolton did have some sense to help them. "We have the Lannisters on the run." Eliana stated, determined to make him listen to what they were saying. "If you march all the way back north now, you'll lose what you gained." Her voice was hard and stern. Eliana needed for Robb to listen properly so he didn't make any rational decisions that he would regret on the morrow.

"My boy would be honored to bring you Prince Theon's head." Bolton persuaded carefully.

Robb's anger did not waver as he glowered at Roose Bolton. "Tell your son Bran and Rickon's safety is paramount. And Theon..." He started, a raw sadness emerging now. "I want him brought to me alive. I want to look him in the eye and ask him why." He said more to himself than anyone else. He couldn't believe that Theon would do such a thing to him, they were brothers. "And then I'll take his head myself."


	12. And so he swam home...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Your heart is free, have the courage to follow it." She's a Wolf of Winterfell... wolf blood courses through her raging body. A wolf is untameable; she's as unconquered and unbeaten as the northern snow. No man can tame a Wolf of Winterfell; the Red Viper has tried just like the golden Lion... but still, the lone Wolf rages on. 
> 
> He was their brother, but now he's as foreign as the Stranger...

She could hear the sighs of the muck below as it flattened beneath her boots, moaning almost in pain as was she. Her leg was giving her a great deal of grief as she struggled through the mud while the rain pelted her with a deadly assault of its one from above. She'd decided she couldn't stay in Robb's tent any longer; she would only say something she would regret about him trusting Theon.

She'd known, all along.  _Time will only tell_  she told her father once but he, like Robb had chosen to ignore her judgment and instead settled for their own. He was a kraken in an unfamiliar sea but he could swim and so he swam home.

That small boy who had come to Winterfell with her father, whom she'd grown up with, ran back to his rebelling father and now her brothers safety was compromised and thanks to that Iron Born prick they were stuck in between; going north to take back Winterfell, or continuing south with their cause. She'd cursed herself for not stepping up,  _Let me go, I'll bring him back but with a head I cannot ensure…_  she'd wanted to say to Robb but kept quiet.

That boy who had once arrived at Winterfell as her father's ward had now reappeared.

If her father were alive to bare witness to this, he would've cursed Robb for being so lenient in the first place, allowing him to return to Pyke.

* * *

The wind was harsh on the day of his return from the Greyjoy's Rebellion. Her father was coming home! Eliana had missed him so much, nearly as much as when he went to fight in King Robert's rebellion.

But now he was bringing someone back with him, not a brother like Jon but a guest. Eliana couldn't imagine what a baby kraken would be like, she imagined him to be vicious and cruel. Though, any child of ten years would expect that from a child of the Iron Islands. She couldn't suppress the excitement that was surging through her body, not for the kraken but for her Lord father.

" _Ow, Jon._ " Catelyn noticed a commotion beside her and saw Eliana and Jon conversing quietly. She frowned when she witnessed Jon trying to fasten her Tully pin to her cloak. " _Jon, let me_." Catelyn went to take over but Eliana waved her hands off, prevented her from doing so.

" _No, mother._ " She turned back to Jon. " _Jon can manage as long as he doesn't poke me with the needle again..._ " She smiled at her half-brother and eventually had to help him close the clasp. She adjusted the pin once Jon had finally sorted it; she pressed a kiss to his cheek as a thank you.

Even though she loathed the boy, she appreciated that he made her children happy despite him being an outcast in her eyes.

" _If father fought his father, why is he bringing him here?_ "

On the other side of Catelyn stood Eliana's younger brother, Robb, along with Maester Luwin, and some of their household. Only three years, Sansa was confined to her room, suffering from a small fever and her mother was carrying an unborn child that she couldn't wait to meet.

She found her breath barely drew steam - it was rather a warm morning in the north. She noticed her mother's nervousness as she twirled the trim of her cloak between her gloved fingers. She was watching Robb and she knew she was trying to think of how to explain to the boy of six that the kraken would be more of a fosterling than a hostage which of course was not true.

To call him a fosterling would imply that he was a foster-brother, and he wasn't her mother had assured her earlier that morning when she had questioned her in her chambers.  _The boy might be dead in five years if his mad father chooses to rebel again..._ Catelyn had told her. Hostage would be more appropriate in her eyes but then she thought he should be in a cage. But the lordling was to be raised with her and her siblings.

" _Theon is your father's ward now._ " Catelyn spoke softly, not because she shied from the truth but because it would be hard for Robb to understand at his age. " _Think of him as a guest._ "

Robb nodded, fidgeting, more distracted by the horses trotting into the courtyard than his mother talking to him of the kraken.

Riding ahead of his men, Ned looked every bit of a man who had just been through a war. His cheekbones were harder than before and definitely in need of a month's good food. Theon rode beside him on a soot-coloured pony.

The kraken child was boy of nine or so, lean and dark-haired like most of his family, Eliana remembered, huddled beneath a black cloak. His eyes were blank and frozen, and she saw that his hands were also wrapped up in the thick folds of his cloak.

Ned slid from his destrier and strode quickly towards his growing family. First, he enveloped his wife into his arms and pressed a soft kiss against her lips as his hand moved to touch the small bump that rounded her stomach. " _I'm glad to be home, especially before the babe arrives._ " His voice was warm and well-missed. He knew Catelyn wasn't due for months but he was just glad to be home with her.

Unlike most Northmen, Ned didn't clap people on the shoulder. Instead, he took Robb and gave him a gentle squeeze. " _You've gotten taller._ " He observed, running his hand through his red curls. After a few words with Jon, Ned moved away from his two boys to only stop and look at his eldest daughter.

She'd changed in the months he'd been away from them. She was his little wolf; her hair now had an auburn tint to it and it cascaded down her back in a long braid. Her eyes were a mixture of blue and grey… he couldn't tell if she was Stark or Tully anymore but he didn't care. " _Come here, sweetling_." He lifted her into his arms and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. " _I've missed you, sweet girl._ " Ned set her back down, smiling still. " _Where's Sansa?_ " He straightened his legs, noticing that his youngest wasn't there to greet him alongside her siblings.

Catelyn went to answer but Eliana beat her to it, reaching for her father's hand. " _She's ill... a fever according to Maester Luwin._ " Ned chuckled at her tone of voice, knowing she was his tough little girl.

" _None as tough as you sweetling._ " He squeezed her hand. Ned nodded back to his ward. " _This is Theon Greyjoy, heir to the Iron Islands. He is our guest now._ " He glanced back at the kraken child and prompted him wordlessly to answer.

The child slid from his pony, face pale and emotionless. He bowed his head as his own way of greeting, blank-eyed and stiff. " _Lady Stark, Lady Eliana, Lord Robb._ " His pony looked more inquisitive than him.

Theon approached them slowly and Robb smiled at him innocently. " _Do you want to play heroes?_ " He pressed, nudging Jon who nodded eagerly beside him.

Theon didn't reply instead he shrugged a response, and he didn't return the innocent smile.

" _You're being rude._ " Eliana commented while she glowered and let go of her father's hand, moving towards her mother. " _Doesn't he like us mother? Why did father have to choose a discourteous one as his ward…_ " She pressed, already feeling annoyed with  _this_  kraken.

Ned laughed, " _Discourteous? Where did you learn that?_ " He teased, seeing the playful glare Eliana sent him in return.

" _Maester Luwin._ " She answered in her satisfied voice, pleased that her father had noticed her progress in her lessons with Luwin.

Robb joined her questioning then, confused by Theon's empty responses. " _Why's he so quiet? Does he hate us, mother?_ "

Catelyn sighed and bent down to their height and brushed the hair that fell into their eyes away from their faces. She felt no empathy for the boy, but she knew he must be grieving. " _He has lost his older brothers and he is far from home. Give him a few days._ "

* * *

"That small boy of nine…" She mumbled to herself, unable to come to terms with the sudden happenings.

Her eyes found the sky and for a moment, she wished she could just vanish up there… where no one could bother or pester her for a moment of her time. She wished she could fly…  _like a dragon_. She laughed to herself when the thought crossed her mind. "Don't be so stupid."

She didn't want to think of Theon Greyjoy and she espeically didn't want to even consider Balon Greyjoy. She wanted to be able, just for a second, to forget all the pain that had struck her family. So she went a visited the one person she thought could at least make a joke out of something.

Jaime Lannister.

She didn't have a clue why of all people she'd chosen to see him but she couldn't be bothered to face her mother or her brother.

Eliana could hear the panting of her direwolf, smiling as Shadow kept to her injured side for support if she would need him. The guards eyed her suspiciously when she came to the stockades, still struggling to walk. None of them spoke, probably knowing she'd be tempted to hit them with the blunt edge of her sword if they so much as made a comment.

He didn't even sense her presence at first. No one had come to see him for a while, so he'd given up hoping to receive a visit from her. But then he heard her voice, it reached his ears like a musical note from a harp. He didn't dare look up though. He knew her beast was with her, that direwolf of hers. He could hear its panting and the grass crunching beneath its violent paws.

"Please don't tell me you expect me to believe that you're asleep."

First, he saw the crutch held closely to her side which confused him. Then, he spotted the direwolf standing on her other as if for support. Finally, he noticed her struggle in walking and then he realised. "You're hurt." He observed, his first words spoken to her in a few days and they pointed out the obvious which made her laugh.

Eliana glanced down her leg and sighed, "My mother's pet, Brienne of Tarth, attacked – well, it was more of me being stupid really. Her blade went straight through my sodding leg." Her explanation was basic and simple, full of the truth.

Jaime tilted his head to look at her as she unlocked his pen and stepped inside. He was surprised she wasn't repulsed by the smell of shit but then he remembered she was one of the few women in the camp. "I suppose she's in chains if your Lady mother got her way." He anticipated, wanting to know what had become of her assailant.

She shook her head to his disbelief. "No, I forbade her to do so." Eliana specified with a smile on her face. "The woman is quite entertaining, especially when struggling to ask for forgiveness."

Jaime didn't answer; his attention was on her beast that had situated itself in between them. He heard laughter again and immediately shot her a hateful look. He watched as she sat herself down on the mud, levelling out her leg as she did so, and leaning against the pen wall. "How's the war coming along?"

Eliana grimaced, in fact her whole face contorted. "Funny you should say that..." She thought she'd escaped all the gossip of Theon Greyjoy's betrayal, but evidently not. "He swore an oath to my brother..."

Jaime stared at her, wondering what she was going on about at first, not understanding her words. He hated being in this pen, shut off from people and he hated not being able to watch her from his pen.

Eliana sensed his confusion and sighed before explaining. "We've just been betrayed by the kraken that was in our mists." Her voice was dull and emotionless, though there was hurt lurking behind her words.

Jaime frowned, " _Greyjoy?_ " He had to be sure of what he was hearing, there was no way the boy would betray Robb Stark. He'd been Ned Stark's ward since the age of nine and now he'd returned home to Pyke to betray the cause.

"In truth, the war isn't going at all well..." Eliana admitted, knowing that they were heading nowhere in truth. She didn't want it to come to war and yet, here they were living in camps with thousands of troops. "I don't want to be in a battle. But waiting on the edge of one I can't escape is even worse."

Jaime saw the want in her eyes; the want of returning to Winterfell, returning to her home. He could see the longing of her family enter her eyes, her family was everything to her and it was slipping through her fingers.

"Do you not ever want to not be at war?"

Jaime shrugged, uncertain. "Yes... I suppose." He agreed honestly, knowing he'd rather be at King's Landing than in this pen that stunk of shit. "All the time in fact but you see the realm would be a bore without the events of war, Lia." He noted dryly, knowing that was the only thing he was really good at.

"Good to know I'm not the only one... or..."

He smiled at her comment and stared at her. It was an innocent stare, one longer than necessary and definitely not need but Jaime couldn't bring himself to look away from her as the moonlight fell onto her face, illuminating her beauty for him to see.

She moved her face closer to stare at him, studying him with her eyes. "I cannot tell whether you're being genuine or just plain patronising..." She admitted while he laughed loudly.

"Lady Eliana." Eliana turned to see Brienne standing a few feet away from the pen. She looked weary and distant, and she knew she was still struggling to forgive herself. "You brother wishes your presence in his tent, Ser Alton has returned from King's Landing."

She nodded and silently climbed to her feet, keeping her leg straight. "Ser Jaime." Eliana's voice reached him as she exited the pen and the guard locked it shut after. "How are you fairing Brienne?" He heard her ask.

Despite being sat in his own shit, despite being her brother's prisoner Jaime didn't seem to really care... he was glad that he got the chance to converse with Eliana Stark. He was happy someone was taking him seriously and not calling him  _Kingslayer_  for once. He liked Eliana, she was meant to be his foe but he liked her and a part of him thought he may have liked her even more than he cared to let on.

* * *

He narrowed his blue eyes at the small man. "And what did she say?" Robb questioned as Eliana entered the tent silently.

Ser Alton shifted uncomfortably before him. "She admired your spirit, Your Grace." He let out quietly.

"And what then?"

Alton looked down briefly and bit the inside of his cheek. "She, uh..." He trailed off, still looking uncomfortable.

Robb sighed and looked to his War Council. "If every man were held accountable for the actions of every distant relative, Ser Alton, we'd all hang." Robb explained simply, giving him no other choice.

Alton nodded. "She tore the paper in half, Your Grace."

"You've acted with honor. I thank you for it." Robb told him honestly, looking to Rickard Karstark Robb then spoke to him. "Lord Karstark, see that Ser Alton's pen is clean. And give him a hot supper." He ordered the giant of a man.

Rickard Karstark tilted his head, annoyed that Robb was allowing a Lannister to be spared. Another one. "Ser Alton's pen is occupied, Your Grace. The prisoners from the Yellow Fork." He voice was hard and dull, it held no emotion to it as he referred to the Lannister in the tent. He hated them, and that was putting it nicely.

Bolton sighed sourly. "Too many prisoners." He commented dryly.

"Is there room for Ser Alton?"

"Does he need to lie down?" Karstark suggested with his usual gruff voice.

Eliana stepped forward then, allowing the burden to be lifted from her brother's shoulders. "Have the men build him a new pen." She commanded gently, sinking into a seat at the table, feeling the stinging sensation shoot through her leg.

Robb nodded, "Put him in with the Kingslayer for now." He agreed, looking at her thankfully. "Have your boy watch over them." He added softly.

"Torrhen."

A short boy strode forward and tugged on Alton's arm, pulling him out of the tent silently.

Robb sighed and nodded to the men gathered around. "That will be all." He concluded, looking to his sister again. "How's your leg, Lia?" He pressed, worried by the sound of his voice.

"It's a leg -" She was interrupted by the foreign accent of Talisa Maegyr.

Talisa was a mess to the eye, stained with blood. "Your Grace.  _A minute of your time?_ " Her voice was innocent but commanding, as thought she knew Robb would allow her what she wanted.

Robb saw the slight irritation on Eliana's face but put it down to the pain her leg was giving her. "Sorry Lia." Robb nodded to Eliana, who seemed more than reluctant to leave him along with this woman from Voltanis.

"No, it's absolutely fine..." She trailed off, moving towards the entrance as Bolton rushed out. "I'll just hobble away..."

* * *

In the stockades, Ser Alton had found some comfort in Ser Jaime Lannister which came as a gentle surprise to the young man. "Who did you say your mother was again?" Jaime asked, frowning at him.

Alton returned his frown. "Cinda Lannister." He answered quickly.

"Is she the fat one?"

Alton hesitated and soon shrugged. "Well, perhaps she's gotten a little larger than she..." He began, trying to remember his mother's build.

"No, no." Jaime commented, shaking his head. "There's only one fat Lannister. If she was your mother, you'd know it." He finished as an awkward silence drifted over the pen.

"I... I squired for you once, you know?" Alton announced, creeping closer to Jaime from where he sat in the corner of the pen.

"When?" Jaime's brow deepened in thought.

"The tournament the day of Willem Frey's wedding." Alton answered.

Jaime scoffed in disbelief. "I went to Willem Frey's wedding?" He questioned, not even remembering the event let alone attending it.

" _You did._ " Alton informed confidently. "Your squire had gotten so drunk the night before that he..."

He threw up on his horse on the way to the tourney grounds." Jaime continued easily enough as he began nodding slowly when the memories came flooding back. "What was his name?" He inquired absently, not expecting him to know.

"Bryan."

He laughed, "Poor lad." He sighed, looking to his shackled hands. "That was my brother's doing, I seem to recall... I remember you." Jaime's eyes fell on Alton again, zeroing on his face. "You had never squired for anyone before."

Alton's face lit up, creeping closer still. "That's right. I ran up and volunteered.  _Let me, My Lord. Let_   _me._ " He paused, the light disappearing from his face as soon as it had appeared. _"_ My father was furious, afraid I'd embarrass our family in front of  _the_  family." He concluded with a sad tone, replaying that entire day in his mind.

"You didn't, though."

Alton smiled. "You really remember?"

"Mm." Jaime nodded in agreement. "You knew when you were needed and when to go away. It's a rare talent." He commented tiredly, leaning against his post. "Most of my squires, they mean well, but young men with big jobs, they tend to overdo them."

Alton continued to move closer to Jaime. "Well, when I think back to that day..." He begun but was interrupted when Torrhen appeared and sent the pair of them a hiss of warning. When he'd vanished Alton looked shaken and worried.

Rolling his eyes, Jaime gestured for him to carry on. "You were saying?" He spoke, tilting his head in question.

"I..." He stopped himself, already humiliated. "Never mind. It's embarrassing." He concluded honestly, his eyes trailing to the murk swimming on the ground around him.

"More embarrassing than being chained to a post covered in your own shit?"

He then felt a surge of confidence and need. He felt wanted for once, and for once someone was listening to him. "I remember everything about that day... your helmet, your horse, the rake line in the dirt along the list, where the sun was in the sky when you knocked Balon Swann from his horse, and the dent in your shield when you handed it back to me." He rushed, leaving Jaime stuck at a loss for words to reply with, having not remembered that day as well. "I'll remember it all until I die."

There was a moment of silence before he started up again, eager to finish his tale. "That was the best day of my life." Alton vowed, staring off into nowhere as he told Jaime. "And I remember being on the field after it was over. All the competitors were done. I was the last one out there. And I couldn't leave." He paused, coming back to reality, feeling the bitterness rise within of him, realising how low he was compared to  _Ser Jaime Lannister_. He was nothing compared to him. " _I couldn't bring myself_   _to go and sit with my family_  at a table so far on the edge of the feast you could barely even see the bride. And I couldn't bear to tell them what it had been like squiring for you when I knew that they could never have the faintest idea what I was talking about." His face had with fury, his eyes burning at the memories while a grotesque grimace pulled at his lips.

"I understand completely." Jaime added.

"How could you?" It came out more harshly than Alton had intended. "S-sorry, I... I didn't mean to doubt you. It's just that I..." He stuttered out, crawling ever closer.

Jaime sighed, turning to face him properly. "I was 16 once. I also had to replace someone's squire on short notice." He told the man.

Alton's brow picked up in intrigue. "Which knight was it?" He sounded like an excited child, the desperation filling his eyes at he listened and watched in wonder.

"Barristan Selmy." Jaime stated simply. "The fight against the Kingswood outlaws... before your time." He looked away, his mind somewhere else.

"What was he like?"

He sighed and shrugged. "He was a painter, a painter who only used red." They shared a smile at his words. "I couldn't imagine being able to fight like that, not back then... and to help him do that, to be a part of something that perfect... I don't need to explain how that felt, not to you." He told Alton truthfully, knowing he'd experienced his level probably when squiring for him.

"It's hard to put into words." He cut in, sitting forward on his knees.

"It's like stepping into a dream you've been dreaming for as long as you can remember and finding out that the dream is more real than your life." He said with such passion that he felt as pathetic as Alton. "Leaving that battlefield was like being dragged off to prison." He muttered the ending, feeling annoyed with himself.

But Alton didn't give in after that. "Did you squire for him again?" He pressed.

Jaime shook his head. "No. I didn't have your gift." He couldn't take a step without stepping on me. I was awful, a complete liability... until one of the outlaws decided to take on a 16-year-old squire. It's a good thing I am who I am." He chuckled to himself, both of them smiling again. "I'd have been useless at anything else. I'm not well-suited for imprisonment." He paused to see the look on Alton's face and chuckled once more. "Shocking, I know." His voice was barely audible now. "Some men are. Ned Stark... I imagine he made an excellent prisoner right up until the end." He pondered aloud, thinking about the quiet wolf. "But me, though... my life has left me uniquely unfit for constraint."

Alton glanced around the pen. "Have you thought about...?"

He scoffed, "Of course. Every day." He stated the obvious in reply to his stupid question.

"And?"

"Good prisoners breed good jailers, apparently." He paused, watching the guard pace around the pen slowly. "The Starks are very careful." Jaime added, looking to Alton slowly.

"I've seen you with the Stark girl, you both seem to get on rather well... perhaps if you?" Alton suggested with a nod of his head.

A smile crept onto Jaime face then. "She's... she and I, I think... we're in the same boat but she would never help me - us." He admitted, looking down feeling bashful all of a sudden.

Alton smiled to himself. "She's very beautiful." It was an innocent comment but Jaime didn't like the way he'd said it.

"I'm not blind, no women down south bear the look of a northern beauty... especially nothing like her." Jaime explained, not even sparing a moment to consider Cersei.

"I would wish for anything to lay with her for the night." Alton spoke, his voice laced with want and lust that it made Jaime feel sick to his stomach.

Jaime fell silent and shot daggers at Alton. The boy may be related to him but he didn't like the words leaving his mouth. "She wouldn't waste herself on you and you know that."

He nodded. "You're probably right." He realised how stupid he'd been, mentioned her to Jaime.

"I know I'm right..." Jaime stated arrogantly, narrowing his eyes at the man. "You've probably never even been with a woman before." He judged by the way he lusted after her.

"Aye, but she'll never be with you... she has eyes for Oberyn Martell only."

That hurt, to think that Viper had gotten something he hadn't and he couldn't bare it. Jaime had had enough of him now and decided to do what he'd been waiting for, his chance. "But there is a way, I think. It wasn't possible until now." He spoke carefully, drawing in Alton again as he creeped closer.

"What is it?" He hung on every word.

Jaime shrugged and sighed. "It's actually quite simple."

"Well, let me help you." Alton stared at him, waiting.

Jaime sighed, the man was an idiot and he didn't seem to care at all for his own life by the state of his eager to please. "You'll only have to do one thing." Jaime told him, staring him down.

They moved closer to each other, both glancing around cautiously. "Tell me." Alton asked, unable to withstand the tension any longer.

Jaime leaned to down to his ear and whispered. "You'll have to die." 


	13. A Wolf's Duty

"Lady Stark!" A shrewd voice sounded at the entrance of her tent, Catelyn turned and absently discarded her pen and ink to look at the man. She didn't recognise his face at all but he was a troop to her son and she would not turn him away.

However, Brienne's hand thudded hard against his chest, forcing him back easily. She was definitely more weary now, since her run-in with Eliana she was going to be careful before she did something else she would regret. "No farther." Her voice was firm and she had no intention of allowing him past her. She would not fail Lady Catelyn again.

His dark eyes glowered at the giant in his way. "Keep your hands off me, woman." His tone was dangerous and bitter, clearly not happy being commanded by a woman such as Brienne.

But Brienne would not budge. She would not allow him to beat her. "Don't enter without an invitation,  _man._ " Brienne shot straight back at him, standing tall and strong as a fort.

He hesitated and soon sighed in defeat, knowing fully well he wouldn't succeed. "Forgive me. Lady Stark." He paused, waiting for her response.

Catelyn closed her eyes in annoyance and looked to him once more. All she wanted to do what finished her letter. " _What is it?"_ She wondered, wanting to know if the issue desperately needed her attention but his next words definitely concluded her thoughts.

"You daughter requests your assistance... they caught the Kingslayer."

* * *

There were a large variety of shouts and threats sounding around her as she strode from her tent, picking up her trains while she caught sight of the mob ahead. The shouts for his death echoed loudly, enough to make her ears ring at the sharp tones.  _Kill the fucking Kingslayer! Gut him!_ She heard over and over.  _Hang him! You'll die today... Justice for the Karstarks._

"Get back!  _I_  want his head!" Came the wrath of Lord Rickard Karstark, gaunt and large, as he charged at Eliana who was stood between him and his vengeance.

Eliana frowned, not really knowing why she'd favoured Jaime's life... she really didn't. "Lord Karstark, you need to calm yourself." She reminded softly, seeing his sword clutched tightly in his hand. She knew she had to take control of the situation before it got out of hand and someone's blood was spilled. "Jaime is my brother's prisoner,  _your King_ , if you've quite forgotten." She paused, glaring when he tried to step around her. "You can't kill him. As much as you want to  _you can't_... as much I want to kill Joffrey  _I can't_."

Karstark slowly trotted towards her, standing very tall which worried her. She could see the anger flourishing in his eyes and radiating from his body and directly to the crowd gathered around them as they continued to call for Jaime's head. "Any man who stands between a father and his vengeance asks for death." He growled, baring his teeth.

"I am a woman." Eliana, however, stood her ground and didn't move. She wasn't going to allow him to bully her to get what he wanted. "And I'm afraid you will have to consider killing your liege Lord's daughter if you wish to get to Ser Jaime, Ser!" She threatened, warningly, fully aware that he would not dare harm the sister of his King - he didn't have the courage let alone the chance with the guards at her side.

"You'd rather allow him to pleasure you than take his head yourself, girl!"

All she saw was the lord's sword raised to her daughter and then Catelyn was pushing her way through the crowd, spotting Jaime Lannister, who was sat kneeling behind Eliana safely for the moment. Why  _she_ was stood in front of Jaime Lannister was beyond her, but she knew she was doing it for the girls.

She went to move forward when a hand yanked on her wrist, Eliana glanced to her side to see her mother had finally come to her aid as she struggled to keep the peace between their bannermen. But her mother had come a little too late for her liking. "Lord Karstark, this man is our prisoner." Catelyn consulted the man in front of her out of desperation to get through to him.

"This monster killed my son."

Catelyn shook her head and sighed. The Lannisters had harmed many that was true. "And crippled  _mine_." She shot right back at him, filled with as much as pain as he held in his own heart. "He will answer for his crimes,  _I promise you,_   _but not here._ " Catelyn vowed, wanting nothing more than for Rickard to believe her.

Karstark stepped towards her then, "I will have his head. And if you try and stop me..." He begun, seeing Eliana's grip tightening on the hilt of her sword, clearly ready to use it if necessary.

"You will strike me down?" Catelyn exclaimed as an unwavering silence fell. Karstark looked shaken by her outburst but still as angered. "Have you forgotten me, Ser?  _I am the widow of your_ _liege Lord Eddark Stark._ I am the mother of your king!" Catelyn ripped into the giant so easily that Eliana felt a hint of amusement rush within her at the man's silence.

It only lasted a couple of seconds though and then he was coming right back with another hasty and heated reply. "And where is our king now?" He spat bitterly, gripping his own sword tightly.

"You know very well." Eliana interrupted, annoyed with his continuous threats of murder since the deaths of his sons. "He has gone to the Crag to accept the surrender." She stated, staring at him in wonder. Eliana had always known that the Karstarks had been hot-tempered but never had she encountered one of his person before.

He nodded, glaring at the girl momentarily before allowing his gaze to settle on her mother, the main cause of his anger. "Aye, gone to the Crag, but not to negotiate. He brought that foreign bitch with him." His words didn't favour him in the slightest and he saw the fury rise in their eyes.

Catelyn's face contorted in vexation. "How dare you?" She hissed, glaring dangerously at him as everyone watched, not daring to speak as the tension gathered thickly.

Unleashed, Brienne drew her own sword. "Threatening My Lady is an act of treason." Eliana frowned in confusion at Brienne's accusation of Karstark. Yes, he was difficult but they needed his forces in this, they couldn't compromise their alliance with the family over something as petty as this.

"Treason?" Karstark cackled, glancing at Jaime. "How can it be treason to kill Lannisters?" He pondered darkly, wondering what had become of the Starks for them to resort to protecting Lannister scum.

Catelyn nodded in understanding of his grief. "I understand your grief, My Lord... better than most I understand it." She promised with her heart sat upon her sleeve, trying to persuade the man to reconsider his choice. "... But in the name of my son, the King in the North, stand down."

He looked reluctant to change his mind, but gave in sourly. "When your son returns,  _I will demand_   _this murderer's head._ " He vowed, determined to strike the head from the Lannister's shoulders. He would get his vengeance.

"Wise men do not make demands of kings."

"Fathers who  _love_  their sons do." Karstark replied with absolute control. "I will have his head." He vowed more to himself rather than to Catelyn or Eliana. He looked to Jaime again before striding off towards the tents.

"Thank you for fighting on my behalf, Lady Stark. You too, Lia." Jaime called both Stark women to him, winking at Eliana when she caught his eye. "I would have come to your defense, but..." He gestured to his situation of being bound.

Catelyn merely glanced at Jaime, not seeming at all bothered. "Take him to the stockades. Bind him with every chain you can find!" She ordered, ignoring his pathetic choice of words delivered.

Jaime was pulled to his feet, bound with chains. "You've become a real she-wolf in your later years." He taunted smugly, knowing how easily it would be to taunt the widow. "There's not much fish left in you."

She turned away while Jaime was being dragged away. "And gag him!" Catelyn growled, looking to her daughter. Her anger was still lingering. "What were you thinking? Laying your life down for his?!"

Eliana sighed, looking down to the ground briefly and hesitating with her reply. "As you said, he is our prisoner..." She began honestly, understanding her annoyance. "If I allowed Rickard Kartsark to kill him, we would never get back Sansa."

Catelyn's eyes narrowed at her daughter when she only spoke of Sansa and not Arya. "And Arya." She added, wondering why she would leave her youngest daughter out.

"Mother, I haven't been strictly honest with you." Eliana told Catelyn, feeling her guilt rise within her. She looked to Brienne, tilting her head slightly and considering whether or not to speak with her listening. "Brienne, what I'm about to say must stay between you, my mother and I."

The sworn sword frowned but nodded nonetheless, willing to obey. "I swear to you, Eliana... your truth will not leave my lips." She vowed, curtly bowing her head.

"What is it, Lia?" Catelyn stepped towards her, her eyes lacing with concern and betrayal, now knowing that her daughter had lain to her of something concerning Arya.

Eliana bit the inside of her cheek and nodded. "When father was taken to the Sept of Baelor, he and I had previously decided that both of the girls would need to be taken to safety. With Sansa in the Queen's grasp we would have never been able to smuggle her out of King's Landing with myself without being seen." She paused, shaking her head. She felt so pathetic and disappointed with herself. "I saw Arya, she could see such a thing... Yoren, a man of the Night's Watch was with me and I sent him to seek her out and take her safety."

Catelyn slowly began to piece things together, confusion and irritation infecting her suddenly. "Arya's not there?!" Her voice rose very quickly, echoing through the air. "You've sent her away with this stranger, my daughter! Your sister!" She raged on.

"I sent her to the Wall because of Jon, Jon is there!" Eliana argued, knowing that Jon loved Arya. "He will keep her safe."

Catelyn glowered at her. "I will not have her alone with that bastard." She rasped out.

"How can you be so cruel and barbaric?" She spat, losing control of any clarity she had. "Jon had never had a mother and still, you could never bring yourself to love him even when he came down with the pox! You couldn't bypass that father had a bastard. Jon has never harmed you in any way and yet you went out of your way to make him an outcast for being motherless!"

Catelyn fell silent, she didn't speak because she was right.

Eliana shared a look with Brienne and closed her eyes, feeling nothing but self-loathing although she didn't regret sticking up for Jon. "Send me, my lady." Brienne protested, stepping forward, wanting to shift the blame from Eliana. "I will find your daughter and bring her to you."

"No, Brienne." Eliana warned, not wanting her to take the fall for what she should be doing. "Mother, send me on my way and I will find Arya and bring her back to you." She vowed, although her voice was strained of emotion. "And once they are safe, I will leave."

Catelyn's eyes had turned cold, full of betrayal now and it hurt her. It hurt to think her daughter was all alone in the wild with a bunch of strangers, all alone... why would she do that to her?  _Why would Lia consider choose to do that..._ She said nothing more, turning swiftly and walking away from her as she knelt in the mud.

* * *

Catelyn paused in her walking, to see the banners it uproar of the Kingslayer's life. It worried her, knowing he wouldn't last the night. They would rise against her and shed more blood. She couldn't seem to shift her mind from her daughter's words, they had embedded themselves into her minds and she felt awful. Eliana had been right; she was cruel to Jon.

Brienne saw the look of thought on her face. "Your son returns at dawn, My Lady?" Brienne pressed, looking positively convinced at least one would try to kill him given the chance.

Catelyn nodded absently, still in thought. "So they say."

Brienne sighed, " _The Kingslayer_   _won't last the night_." She noted dully, watching as the banners fought with each other. _"_ The more they drink, the angrier they'll get _._ And when the Karstarks draw their swords...  _who wants to die_   _defending a Lannister?_ " She questioned, knowing that no one would want to die defending one of them. No one.

Catelyn to Brienne and nodded again, regaining her train of thought. "Come." She spoke, leading her towards the stockades. She could the guards stood on duty outside his pen, she needed to get to him before the Karstarks did and she knew it would be long. When they arrived at the pen, Catelyn looked directly past the guards and her eyes landed on Jaime. "I need to be alone with him." She informed the guard nearer to her quickly, moving to go into the pen and feeling his presence follow behind her.

He shook his head, refusing to leave. "My Lady, our orders..." He started to reply but couldn't finish because she interrupted him, feeling her irritation getting to better of her.

She'd had enough of being disobeyed by those who swore to obey. "Your orders, which I just gave you, are to leave me alone with him." She concluded, looking him dead in the eye and leaving him unnerved.

Jaime rose his head and smiled darkly. "Come to say goodbye, Lady Stark?" He questioned, trying to get under her skin. "I believe it's my last night in this world... is that a woman?" Jaime frowned as his eyes trailed to the beast stood outside his pen and he knew that was who must have attacked Eliana.

At his insult, Brienne crept into the pen and took up place behind Catelyn, her hand sitting on her hilt.

Catelyn didn't seem to notice her standing there, she didn't move. She kept her eyes trained on the man in front of her. "Do you hear them out there? They want your head." She informed him with a monotonous voice.

He sighed, shrugging. "Well, old Lord Karstark doesn't seem to like me." He noted simply.

"You strangled his son with your chains."

Although he didn't really care that he killed on of his sons, he understood the man's anger towards him. It was only right. "Oh, oh. Was he the one on guard duty?" He sighed again, resting his head against the post at his back. "He was in my way. Any Knight would have done the same."

"You are no Knight." Catelyn convicted Jaime. "You have forsaken every vow you ever took." Her voice as turned as hard stone as he drifted to his ears, unwavering and unflinching.

"So many vows. They make you swear and swear." Jaime added. " _Defend the king,_   _obey the king,_   _obey your father,_  protect the innocent, defend the weak." He paused, looking down to avoid the harshness of her eyes, knowing she was judging him. "But what if your father despises the king? What if the king massacres the innocent? It's too much. No matter what you do, you're forsaking one vow or another." He deduced dryly, his gaze falling on Brienne once more. "Where did you find this beast?"

As he chuckled, Catelyn edged closer to him. "She is a truer Knight than you will ever be, Kingslayer." Catelyn spoke quietly, her voice losing all its anger as she watched the man before her.

"Kingslayer." Jaime mused to himself. "What a king he was.  _Here's to Aerys Targaryen,_   _the second of his name,_ Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the realm, and to the sword I shoved in his back." He said, hold her gaze this time.

"You are a man without honor." Catelyn proclaimed.

Jaime smiled at those words and nodded. "Do you know I've never been with any woman but Cersei?" He appraised with amusement. "So in my own way, I have more honor than poor old dead Ned." At the words her face changed, and he knew, Jaime knew he gotten to her. "What was the name of that bastard he fathered?"

"Brienne."

Jaime shook his head, frowning. "No, that wasn't it." He confirmed, his brow tightening as he thought. "Snow, a bastard from the North. Now, when... when good old Ned came home with some whore's baby, did you pretend to love it?" He inquired, tilting his head at her as he saw her face twist with fury. " _No. You're not very good_   _at pretending._ _You're an honest woman._ You hated that boy, didn't you?" Jaime growled with loathe, secretly pleased with himself. " _How could you not_   _hate him?_ _The walking,_   _talking reminder_  that the honorable Lord Eddark Stark fucked another woman."

Catelyn's hand flew to her side, her palm upright. "Your sword." She ordered Brienne yet her eyes did still not move from his face. "Find my daughter, and bring her to me."

A smile broke out onto Jaime's face.

* * *

She was skulking around in the night, not knowing what to do with herself. She felt as low as could be, the guilt was eating her alive. She should've told them all the truth straight away and then she wouldn't be in this mess, she didn't want to worry them. She was digging her own grave. "Eliana!" She turned sharply, seeing Brienne charging towards her with red cheeks indicating that she'd been running. "Your mother wishes to see you, quickly."

Eliana narrowed her eyes at the woman, "Why?" She wasn't sure if this was some trick to make her feel even worse than she already did. She had to be sure. "What does she want me for?"

Brienne shrugged, "She never said specifically, but it's of importance." She explained as Eliana willingly followed her along.

Her leg cried out as she made the trek to the stockades, forgetting the distance from near her tent to there. Her eyebrows perked up when she saw her mother holding Brienne's sword towards Jaime when they approached the stockades. Her mother was certainly on the war path today, but she was still cautious about why she was needed.

Brienne moved ahead and entered the pen, Catelyn looked to her. "My Lady, your daughter as you requested."

"Brienne." Catelyn passed the sword back to its owner and exited the pen to see Eliana standing away from the pen, pacing slowly.

She saw her mother walking towards her and her eyes immediately flew to the ground and that was where they stayed. "Brienne said it was important that you see me..." She didn't bother to look up, knowing in those blue eyes there would only be hate and betrayal.

Catelyn sighed and nodded. "Lia, look at me." She commanded, her voice hoarse and low. Slowly, her daughter's eyes met hers and she saw the tears swimming around, threatening to fall. "I need you to do something."

"Which is?" She dared to ask.

Catelyn glanced back at Jaime to see him watching them, well, he was watching her daughter. "You will escort him to King's Landing... you will trade him for Sansa and then you will return her to me." She turned back to face her, seeing the look of disapproval lacing her features as she slowly processed what was being expected of her. "After she is safely with me, then you will ride as far as North goes until you find Arya."

 _Exile_. She immediately thought.  _She's exiling me..._ she shook her head, allowing the tears to fall from her eyes. "No... is this my punishment?" Eliana mumbled to herself, not believing what she was truly hearing. "Is this your way of exiling me? Because I lied to you?"

Catelyn closed her eyes and bit her lip. She didn't know how to answer, yes it was but... "Lia, this is not exile." Catelyn went to touch her but Eliana stepped away from her.

Eliana let out a laugh, "You send me back down South, they will take my head just like they did father's and send it to you." She replied, petulant.  _Why can't she send Brienne?_ "I know how the game is played down South, and it is not a fair game... Brienne is most suited to this task than I will ever be."

"I'm not asking Brienne." Catelyn spoke, staring at her. She knew what she was feeling, unwanted, unloved... useless. The list could go on. "I'm asking you... you wanted a duty, here it is."


	14. On the Road Again

Jaime slouched into the rickety boat carrying him down river.  _Partly_ slouched because it was more comfortable, but mostly because he wanted his lazy posture to be in direct counterpoint of Eliana's upright figure as she paddled along. He didn't know if it was his naturally mischievous nature combined with his sheer and utter boredom, but he longed to see her crumble if it was in his power to make it happen.

And considering who he was, he thought more or less, everything was within his power to make happen.

Jaime sighed, "Say something, Eliana Stark." He pressed, in an overly dramatic fashion. He liked calling her by her name, he liked watching her react to it; the frustrated and petulant faces she pulled unknowingly. He would diverse her a new nickname though,  _Beauty of the North_ lacked imagination as far as he was concerned.

"What do you want to hear?" She replied, thickly.

"Are you offering to sing for me?" Jaime tilted his head and smiled. "Are you taking requests? What are my favourite... I am partial to a few love ballads, lovely Lia. Do you know any love ballads?"

She caught his eye and narrowed her eyes at his own. "I am not going to sing for you."

"Please." He taunted, smiling still. "I bet you know them all, have them all memorised. I bet you sat by your window as a girl, watching the men and the boys in the courtyard, playing at fighting -"

She interrupted him, "If I recall, I know how to use this..." She gestured to her waist where sat her sword, and Jaime knew she wouldn't hesitate to use it on him. "I refused to sing, I detested sowing...  _gods_ , complete waste of time but my Septa wouldn't hear of it until I ran to my father."

Jaime chuckled, "Ah, yes. You weren't one for needlework, but now you have a needle of your own." He eyed the sword, and sighed. His eyes trailed to her face and he saw the look she was giving him. "What?" He raised his eyebrows. "It's not exactly a needle..."

"Good to know you aren't blind, Ser."

* * *

"You know..." Jaime begun as the boat hit the bank's edge roughly, jolting the pair of them. "You don't have to keep me tied up, do you?"

Eliana rolled her eyes, "You're whining."

"Why not?" He sighed. "I'll only make it more awkward for you."

Eliana helped him out of the boat carefully, and he stumbled, which she gathered was for dramatic effect. He regained his balance, shaking the long hair free from his eyes and staring at her.

They had travelled far down the river that day, well into the long evening ahead as the sun set upon the water turning it black and lifeless. The dark was infecting the brush around them, climbing as high as trees. Eliana didn't care much for comfort since she would receive none in carrying out this task lain before, so making camp for the night was quick and rather simple. However before she carried out her preparations, she went to tie Jaime to a tree to ensure he did not disappear.

"Wait... you honestly think I will run?" He asked with an exasperated sigh of disbelief. "And even if I did, I'm fairly certain you would catch me with those legs of yours..."

She left him tied, and moved about the camping spot which was just a few yards away from the riverbank, to collect firewood. The air was humid and warm; it wouldn't be cold that night but Eliana didn't enjoy the darkness, fire would be her company. Once the fire was burning, she straightened and nodded.

"Am I to be tied to a tree all night?" He inquired rather politely which got him a small smile from her.

Eliana set aside the stick she had been using to tame the flames, looking to his spot at the tree. "Not if you behave decently."

"Decently," He repeated, nodding like a mad man, almost as if he didn't understand the word but she knew he did. But Jaime did love to wind her up but he prefered his own comfort than that. "I cannot guarantee that I'm afraid."

She sighed and nodded. "That's enough." She moved behind him and cut his bonds easily. His hands were still bound and Jaime was not happy. She rolled her eyes when he held his wrists in front of her face, waving them over-dramatically. She studied him for a moment and moved to slash the bonds, letting his hands free.

Jaime smiled in reply and then went to warm himself by the glowing fire. The light flickered against his form, illuminated his face. She watched him and couldn't help but admit his handsomeness, there was no denying it and it pained her to even think it. She would be glad when she had done her duty and delivered him to King's Landing.

"You're staring." Jaime observed quietly, throwing her another smile of his. "I know I'm a handsome devil, you've no need to remind me."

"Sit." Eliana rolled her eyes at his arrogance. "Do you want to eat or not?"

Jaime immediately sunk down onto the log, nodding. "Good... I am ravenous." He asserted, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "What have you prepared, lovely Lia?"

Without even bothering with a reply to his question, she rooted through her pack of supplies until she stumbled upon the bread and unwrapped it. She sighed and broke of a chunk and passed it to him.

"You'll have to feed me," Jaime claimed, grinning to himself. "I'm afraid you tied my hands too tightly."

Eliana closed her, she didn't want to be doing with this game. "If you can't manage I will take it back." She went to take the bread back but his hands enclosed around it, shielding it from her grasp. "I thought as much..." She returned to her spot opposite him on the log and began to eat her own chunk, which she had ensured what the same size as his and even lifted it to show him when he curiously glanced over.

Darkness began to surround them the forest silent except for the faint whispers of the tree's souls. Eliana had settled with her back against the fallen log and her knees up and pressed tightly against her chest, her sword at hand as she started to wait out the night. She reached forward and slid another thick chunk of the firewood into the fire from the small stack she had collected and piled at arm's-length. Sparks flew and danced away into the night, she watched them disappear.

Jaime cast his gaze upon her and sighed. "What are you thinking?" He asked.

She took a moment, an unsettling pause swept across, looking to him and shrugging. "Everything." She knew her answer made no sense, but honestly, she didn't care in the slightest.

Jaime chuckled. "Define everything." He added, knowing that  _everything_ wasn't much to go on.

He could the flames dances reflecting from her eyes into his. He saw the tears gather, drowning those Tully eyes of hers. "My father... his death. My mother and Robb..." She paused, composing herself, frightened she would let everything go. She didn't want to give him that power and she wouldn't. "Bran and little Rickon, Arya and Sansa..." She was smiling, and he knew she replaying happy, content memories in her mind. " _And Jon_ , Jon I seem to miss the most... I haven't seen him in so long."

Jaime stayed silent, not saying anything, already knowing that the bastard was loved by the Stark children. He'd met him and he remembered he hadn't been particularly nice to the boy. "Just think when you've rid yourself of my wonderful company, you'll have your sisters back." He tried to lighten her mood but he failed.

"Arya isn't in King's Landing."

His smile fell as soon as it had appeared. "What do you mean  _Arya's not in King's Landing_?" He inquired, worried, now knowing that Sansa was all alone in King's Landing with his sister.

Eliana sat up and turned to look at Jaime. "Why do you think she sent me, Jaime?" She waited for him to reply but as he went to open his mouth she continued. "My mother wants me to get my sisters back; Sansa is in King's Landing, and Arya is somewhere North... I am not to return until I have returned them both to her. It's my punishment."

"But you may not find Arya again." He accused.

Eliana's eyes snapped to him. "I will find her, even I die doing so... I won't fail my mother again."

He looked to the sky and closed his eyes, savouring the moment. "I suppose you're going to re-tie me, aren't you?" He assumed, holding out his wrists to her.

"No." His eyes opened.

" _No_?" He laughed in surprise. "Now, that I did not expect."

Eliana nodded in understanding. "You need to learn to not make assumptions my friend, but you have to promise to not leave in the night..."

Jaime contemplated his choice, either he could be free or tied up.  _But she would find me, she knows forests... probably knows the Wolfswood off by heart. I can't leave when she has this to do._ "I have no intention of leaving you, Lia. I enjoy your company."

Through the brush, twigs creaked and snapped followed by a low growl through the darkness and the fear ran back to him when his eyes darted around the area, trying to find the source of his fear. Jaime's eyes darted to Eliana, seeing that she didn't look remotely bothered by the noises. "Lia?" He whispered, failing to get her attention while she continued to stare into the flames.

 _Wolves..._ he immediately thought. He knew they could pad around on leaves at night, and not make a sound but he then thought that the noises had been made to scare him and partly as warning for if he escaped he would be found. They could be as silent as death itself, stalking its prey... and Jaime knew if he ran he would be the prey. He wouldn't even known anything was happening until he'd feel the sharpness of claws on him, sinking into his skin.

Out of sheer panic, knowing he had no weapon, Jaime scrambled forward and took Elaina's sword into his hands and held it forward.

That caught her attention then, her brow lowered deeply. "Jaime, what are you doing?" She climbed to her feet, moving to his side. The man was crazy when it came to noises and growling but it was amusing to watch. She stepped in front of him and went to grab the sword but he moved it away.

He refused to move away until he discovered what it was. "There is something in the brush!" He insisted, trying to force his way past her to see. He would not give in until he knew.

Eliana got the message and sighed. She whistled. Those bright blue eyes appeared, glowering dangerously at Jaime, slowly moving to Eliana's side. The narrowed and glowing orbs in the dark did not move from Jaime. If looks could kill, Jaime knew he would be dead.

He felt stupid, so stupid. "Oh..." He trailed off, seeing her friendly beast padding towards them slowly, its muzzle touching her hand in a quickly handed her sword back to her and moved away from the both of them, not want to be near the beast.

Unable to help herself, Eliana began to laugh. A man acting skittish over a wolf, it was ridiculous. "Hold out your hand." She looked to him, seeing the reluctance in his gaze as he watched the beast.

His hand was shaking as it reached forward, trembling with fear. One bite and he would have no hand, never use a sword again. He shut his eyes tightly, waiting for the sharp bite but it didn't come. Instead, his fingers brush its soft muzzle. He could hear it smelling him, taking in his scent and slowly he peaked through and saw that the beast hadn't bit him and he still had his hand. What happened next made Jaime erupt with laughter.

It licked him.

* * *

She heard him enter the tent but she refused to turn her head to meet that cold gaze he would be wearing; her own son hated her. "Tell me this isn't true." She cringed at his words, they were harsh and stern, she knew he was beyond the point of being angry with her. "Why?"

Slowly, Catelyn turned to face Robb, holding her head high and feeling determined as to not let his words get the better of her. "For the girls." She replied, holding his gaze with all she had.

"You betrayed me." Robb insisted, glaring at his mother. He was more than furious, he was disappointed. He thought she understand him but obviously he was wrong. He was in shock mostly, not believing what he'd been told but what made it worse was that she'd sent his sister to escort the Kingslayer!

"Robb..."

But he wouldn't hear of it. "No!" He boomed, clenching his fists in frustration. "You knew I would not allow it and you did it anyway." Robb stepped toward her, wanting to realise the pathetic mistake she'd made.

Catelyn sighed, feeling the humiliation taking over her. She knew she'd been stupid but she wanted her family back. "Bran and Rickon are captives in Winterfell. Sansa and Arya are captives in King's Landing." She explained, staring up at him, wanting him to believe the purpose behind her choice, wanting him to believe she was trying to help. "I have six children, and only two of them are free."

Robb scoffed, she need to be told straight. "They will kill Lia if they get there! Or worse, they will take her captive... all because of you."

Rickard Karstark moved forward, his eyes as hard as ice. "I lost one son fighting by your son's side. I lost another to the Kingslayer, strangled with a chain. You commit treason because your children are prisoners?" He paused, wanting to see if she would interrupt him  _this_ time. She didn't and then he knew she was listening to him, for once. "I would carve out my heart and offer it to the father if he would let my sons wake from their graves and step into a prison cell..." He spoke, pained by the death's of his boys.

Catelyn nodded, "I grieve for your sons, My Lord -" She told the gaunt man before her.

Karstark spat in disgust. "I don't want your grief! I want my vengeance... and you stole it from me." His hand fell on the hilt of his sword, gripping it tightly, wanting to carry out what he wanted more than anything; vengeance for his sons.

Catelyn peered up at him hopelessly. "Killing Jaime Lannister would not buy life for your children, but returning him to King's Landing may buy life for mine." She admitted as her eyes went to Robb, realising how stupid she had been in trusting the Kingslayer, but she knew her daughter would keep him in check and she would not let her down again.

Robb let out a breathless laugh,  _how stupid could she be?,_ he thought to himself, really thinking she had more sense than that. "Jaime Lannister has played you for a fool. You've weakened our position. You've put my sister's life in danger. You've brought discord into our camp. And you did it all behind my back." His tone was monotonous and held no emotion as he spoke, watching her plainly. Make sure she's guarded day and night.

"Robb." Catelyn flew to her feet, desperate to make him listen to her, make him hear her reasons behind her choices. But he ignored her and turned to the guards stood at the entrance of the tent.

He closed his eyes, "How many men did we send in pursuit of the Kingslayer?"  _And my sister..._  he wanted to add but chose to ignore that part, he couldn't believe she'd betrayed him for their mother. They were in this together and now she was gone.

"Forty, Your Grace."

Robb nodded slowly, "Send another forty with our fastest horses." He ordered, charging off with Karstark nipping at his heels.

"Robb." Catelyn went to chase after him but the guards at her tent stopped her from escaping. She sunk back into her seat and cradled her hands to her chest,Eliana was her last hope...

* * *

Another day of river travel passed when Jaime had eyed a weak spot along his side of the boat where the wood was damp with rot and mould. Eliana hadn't appear to have seen it and so Jaime was more careful as to keep it secret from her, resting his leg near the space which covered the area in shadow. He would have to wait for the river to widen before he could attempt his escape plan. Eliana tended to keep the boat hugging into the bank closest to the roadside where they had the cover of the trees and brush while her beast ran beside them on land. But one morning, they came across a rocky stretch and so she had to guide the boat further to the middle.

If his plan failed, he would surely look the fool - although this didn't seem stupid enough to stop him - and if it worked too well they could both be dead before even getting a chance at negotiation.

But he decided it was better than doing nothing. When he saw Eliana was distracted by the sun which was blinding her momentarily, he saw his chance and brought his boot heel down against the rotting wood. The wood fractured and soon enough, water began gurgling through at a rapid pace.

Her eyes fell upon the damage and then rose to meet his eyes.

He smiled.

Eliana looked to her paddle but sighed, knowing that she wouldn't make it. "You won't make it," He called out to her, chuckling. "And I won't go down."

"Then I'll make you."

Jaime's eyes widened slightly, "You're mad if you think I will let you." He informed her, move to leap from the boat.

"One of us has to be." She called, catching him by the leg and dragging him back down.

He laughed and nodded, holding his hands up in surrender. "All right, all right." He said cheerfully, leaning forward. "Once we get ashore, let us battle it out... it will decide whether if I stay your prisoner or not. Sound fair, eh?"

Eliana whistled and Shadow appeared at the bank and Jaime knew he now had no chance of bailing like he planned. By now, they were ankle-deep in river water thanks to Jaime's stupid decision. Seeing his chance, Jaime leapt for the bank and hauled the sinking boat, then extended a hand to Eliana. For a moment, she just sat there and stared at him.

 _Hurry up, woman!_ He wanted to shout at her,  _I want to fight you again..._

After a few more moments, Eliana grasped his forearm and pulled her forwards, and out of the boat. He had to brace himself thought, forgetting the woman was virtually a wall of muscle and with her leather armour, it didn't make it much easier for him. However, in a split-second with his other hand, he divested her of her sword.

Jaime might have even felt sorry for her in that moment if he hadn't been in such a selfish mood. Her face was blank but it could see the irritation beneath it.  _At least she isn't crying..._ that he was thankful for. He detested soggy eyed wenches and bawled and bawled, and it did nothing to soften his heart.

"Let's go... road now." He was pissed with the boat travel, he preferred the road and that's the way it would stay as far as he was concerned.

"You might be recognised."

"I'll worry about that," Jaime stated, "Now, move."

She did; slowly at first but her pace increased quickly when he resorted to whacking the back of her legs.

They headed up the bank and through a cluster of trees and towards the road visible in the distance. It was warm and the road was thankfully, deserted.

Eliana trudged along while Jaime sauntered behind her, eyeing the wolf that padded along with them. "I would like my sword back." She reminded him after walking for a while in silence.

"Patience," Jaime calmed her, "It will be returned to you once I have one of my own, lovely Lia."

"Do you expect me to believe that?"

Jaime shrugged, "Believe it or not, I do not care." He sighed, knowing that that wasn't enough for her to hear. "I never lie when the truth will serve, Eliana."

"You just love to hear yourself talk."

Jaime smiled, "I'll admit it is one the things I can do  _very_ well at." In the distance, he spotted and approaching rider and smiled even more. As the rider galloped towards them, Jaime raised the sword and the rider immediately slowed. Jaime stepped in sharply, enough for the horse to bolt up in fright. He caught a strong grasp of the bridle and inspected the rider. His eyes then landed on what he was looking for. _  
_

A sword.

"Get down." He ordered, levelling Eliana's sword.

The man complied, sliding down quickly.

"I am terribly sorry, but I'm in need of your sword." Jaime informed him with a small smile.

"Fuck off." The man replied.

Jaime let out a soft sigh and nodded. In one swift movement, he slashed the man's throat out of spite, then shoved the point of the sword deep into his stomach for good measure. The man splurged blood and fell to his knees.

"I'm sorry." Jaime apologised, reaching for the weapon sat at his waist and using his foot to kick the body to the ground. He then examined the sword and smiled again, it was able enough steel. He then also helped himself to the man's scabbard, pulling it around his waist and adjusting the size so it fat snugly.

Eliana watched in disapproval.

The horse, meanwhile, danced and neighed around at the mere sight of Shadow.

Jaime's eyes fell on the horse. "You'll have to walk, although it seems a hardy animal but I don't think it could carry the both of us." He noted, dryly, wanting her to bite.

"I have no intention of riding with you."

The horse, however, declined both options, neighed and promptly ran off, the haste created a thick dust cloud.

"Would you look at that, ill-tempered just like its owner." Jaime commented. "Well, now you shall have your trial, lovely Lia!"

She nodded.

They walked to where the land rose into a slight hill, shielding them from the view of the road, and down the other side. It would serve perfectly for a quick melee.

She turned and faced him. Her face was set and hard.

He tossed her sword to the ground, hoping to anger her and from he flash in her eyes, he knew he'd been successful. She stooped and picked up the weapon, turning sideways and circling towards him.

And then they engaged.


	15. Frenemies

He was expecting her to be good, because she wouldn't have become what she was, and personally he didn't want it to be a lie. He was ready for that. However, he wasn't prepared for her to be that good. She was as good as most men.

Eliana's sword missed his shoulders by mere inches.

 _Better_ than most men.

As they continued, he realised he might have to reconsider his plan of how long this would take to finish. She wasn't going to let him win; she was completely committed, and that meant he had to be, too.

"Let me know when you've had enough, lovely Lia." He said when he wasn't gritting his teeth.

She came at him again.

He was mostly defending while she attacked. He thought at this point, it was good to keep her angry. And there was nothing wrong with starting a fight angry, but if you stayed angry, you would tire quickly. He was confused when she wasn't tiring within minutes, considering she was the one in armour,  _leather armour which is not metal but just as protective_ , he thought to himself.

 _She really is a beast,_ he thought, but not without admiration for Eliana.

After a while, Eliana began to tire.

Steel clashed with steel again and then Jaime moved in, ready to finish it.

As it continued, Eliana began to tire. It was bound to happen though, engaging in such intense lengthy combat with a single opponent as skilled as Jaime. It was not open space where she could swing and use the full strength and ability of her limbs to her advantage, and Jaime was pushing in closer, forcing her to work in tighter circles which she did not approve of.

Her mind was working just as hard, leaping two steps ahead of her feet, trying to out-guess him.

She moved swiftly, although her balance was compromised due to her ill leg. It wouldn't be enough for an average opponent to notice, to take advantage, but this was Jaime Lannister, the  _Kingslayer_.

He slipped through her window of defense and shoving, he wound his leg around hers and tripped her.

And Eliana knew she was done, he taken out the leg Brienne had seized.

Jaime was atop her in a second, knees on either side of his stomach. "Yield." One of his hands held hers in place while the other was casually for her throat, probing gently.

However, he'd made a mistake, because her other arm despite being partly pinned the ground, was still uncommitted.

With all the strength she could muster, she used her fingers to work the small dagger strapped to her outer thigh loose. However, when she went to move the small blade towards him she realised she had thought wrongly about Jaime; he'd known. Silently, he caught her wrist and forced it back on itself. Eliana flinched when she felt the bones slide together in an abnormal manner as the dagger came back towards her. Quickly, she shoved it away using all the remaining strength that lurked in her forearm but the force of her own action, forced the blade down upon her cheekbone.

The dagger was thrown.

The were both still for a moment, surprise freezing them. Jaime's weight, centered on her waist, shifted back as he straightened and slowly rose to his feet. Eliana was well aware of the blood running down her neck as it leaked from her supple cheek, down and along her jawbone. She was staring at the sky, watching the clouds float by.

Jaime glanced down at her, frowning gently. "I fairly certain that your mother  _didn't_  wish for you to slaughter me, did she?" He asked quietly, knowing she wouldn't be listening to him.

But she laid motionless on the ground, having no intention of moving to degrade herself even more if she attempted to struggle to her feet. She wanted to punch him him. Hard and in the mouth just to shut him up. But she felt too weak, her leg hurt too much and now her cheek had gone numb and she could feel the stinging sensation drifting across her face.

"Get up, Lia." Jaime sighed, collecting both swords, sheathing one while tucking her dagger in his boots and then moving to grab her arms. "I'm not going to allow you to just lie there and bleed..."

Jaime sat her up by force, and watched as she fumbled around in her leathers. Her head was ringing, gritting her teeth from the pain in her head as she wiped some of the crimson mess away absently. She winced.

He knelt, looking at her and then came closer. He reached for her jaw, wanting to inspect the damage. Eliana turned her cheek away from his view which cause him to chuckle. "Let me see, Lia." He asked softly but that authoritative tone lingered somewhere in his voice.

"It's nothing."

" _I_  will be the one to decide whether it is  _nothing_  or not. Now, let me see." He commanded, his fingers tightening on her chin. Cautiously, she let him turn her head.

His emerald eyes narrowed, "Mm...it doesn't look deep." He noted, tilting his head. "It will probably scar though, so your looks will be tarnished slightly to all the men of Westeros's disapproval."

"You're not amusing, Jaime." She growled through gritted teeth.

Jaime shrugged. "And you are just upset you were beaten  _again_." He paused, watching in amusement as she glared at him. "Come, we should be leaving, we are both due to arrive at King's Landing. I can't have you wandering the countryside."

For the second time on their journey, Eliana took his outstretched arm and let him haul her to her feet. She wished there was another alternative for her, but seeing as though Jaime was more than willing to offer her aid, she took the offer.

* * *

When darkness had struck that night, they'd travelled a considerable distance. The sun had been muted by the clouds and the air smelt of rain which lead them to believe there would be bad weather the following morning.

Jaime had decided a nice spot near the river would suffice, and almost immediately upon hearing they were stopping, Eliana sunk to the ground of the bank and didn't seem to care that it was swamped with mud. He stared at her and concluded that she looked far too worn to go any further that night.

He made a fire out of the firewood he'd shoved into her supply pack, although he was slightly worried that it would be last fire if rain was coming. Eliana was slumped near it, staring off into its flames.

"If you're going to tie me, just get it over with." She rumbled after a brief silence.

Jaime smiled, "Would you like that, little wolf?"

"Don't call me that."

He was slightly taken aback by the ferocity of her reply, he didn't know what was wrong with the nickname. He decided it was best to ignore it and continue. "Possibly, later... just so you don't strangle me in my sleep."

She rolled her eyes. "I have no intention of strangling you." She assured him quietly, meeting his gaze. "You were right, my mother wouldn't have been particularly happy if I had."

"I'm glad you agreement that it's better if I'm alive." Jaime moved to where the water was lapping the stones, knelt and wet a part of his cloak. He came to Eliana and crouched in front of her.

"You're going to need to hold still."

She recoiled when the soggy material touched her face.

" _I_  said hold  _still_." He commanded, cleaning some of the dried blood off before he examined the wound. It was most definitely leave a scar, that had been as clear as when the blade had cut her skin. He felt a sudden wave of guilt, he hadn't meant to permanently mark but it couldn't be helped. She'd tried to stab him in the chest. And Eliana didn't expect to be treated any differently.

If she wished to fight with men, she had to be prepared for the repercussions that came with it.

He returned to the water's edge and rinsed out his cloak.

Eliana leant back against an eroded trunk and closed her eyes. Her breathing slowed and evened out. It wasn't long before she found herself dreaming of the past.

_She hummed when his lips grazed the shell of her ear, biting gently before trailing to her jaw line and gliding down her neck, nipping. She only smiled more when his hands grasped her hips tightly, pulling her tight against him. Her hands slid up his chest and danced around his shoulders and into those lustrous wisps of black and silver._

_Oberyn pulled away briefly, watching her. "You belong in Dorne, little wolf..." He growled, leaning back down to capture her lips in a searing kiss._

_She made a low sound in the back of her throat, fierce and needy, before her arms wrapped around him, her nails clawing over his back, making him hiss and nip at her lower lip. He quickly drew back, carefully pulling Eliana up so she was sitting as he knelt over her, holding her there, gently and slowly, pulling her dress off until she was completely bare to him. He tossed the dress aside, not looking anywhere but at her face, not wanting her to become nervous._

_Their gazes held as he slowly lowered her until she was laid beneath him. He finally let his gaze slide downwards, taking in the sight of the woman who was meant to be his wife._ _He slid his hands up her sides, feeling the soft skin beneath his palms and fingers quiver, and, as he cupped her breasts and..._

Her eyes snapped open when she felt a sharp shove ripple through her body. She could feel the sun's rays falling upon her face, momentarily blinding her that she thought she was in Dorne, where she was meant to be but then the annoying, unwanted face of Jaime Lannister moved into her view, staring down at her.

"We need to leave."

* * *

The banners billowed in the breeze as they made for Harrenhal. It stood tall and burnt, melted and destroyed from dragon fire; twisted and deformed. "We should set the siege lines a thousand yards from Harrenhal." Bolton informed Robb as they sat atop their horses, frowning at the burnt ruin of Harrenhal. standing black and dismal.

Robb's gaze didn't falter from the ruin. "There won't be a siege. The Mountain can't defend a ruin." He replied monotonously.

"I imagine the Mountain will defend whatever Tywin Lannister tells him to defend." Bolton commented dryly.

Robb finally looked to him, seeing the older man watching him. "The Lannisters have been running from us since Oxcross... I'd love a fight. The men would love a fight." He stated with hunger for battle, want for dead Lannisters but that wasn't about to happen. "I don't think we're going to get one." Robb concluded as he kicked his horse and surged forward towards the ruin.

The keep was a mess; bodies handing in all directions, swinging gently from the gushes of the wind. Blood covered the ground they walked, staining their cloak trains as they moved closer to get a better look.

As Robb cautiously moved through, Bolton and Karstark stopped at the Keep entrance, adjusting to the sight before them. "Two hundred Northmen slaughtered like sheep." Karstark said with angst, he was thirsty for vengeance... he wanted the Kingslayer to bleed dry for all the pain he'd caused his family. No, he wanted all Lannisters to bleed.

"The debt will be repaid, my friend. For them and for your sons."

"Will it?" Karstark questioned while he gaze fell on Catelyn, who stood in the shadows. "They rot in the ground while their killer runs free."

Bolton sighed, "The Kingslayer won't remain free for long. My best hunters are after him." He assured the gaunt man who stood beside before he heard his footsteps subside and disappear.

Robb paused when he saw his mother slowly moving to where a man lay, pinned against a fallen wagon. He had an old face and an old house to match. Robb was at her heels, frowning when he saw who she was looking at. "A Mallister?" He pressed darkly, wanting to know why she'd stopped at this poor soul.

"Ser Jeremy." Catelyn murmured, though loud enough for her son to hear. "My father's bannerman."

Feeling eyes upon him, Robb look to his banners and saw them waiting for him to order his mother away. And that's just what he did. "Find her a chamber that will serve as a cell." He commanded, stepping away and staring directly at her back.

As arms took her, Catelyn couldn't help but wonder what had become of her daughter and the Kingslayer. But she wouldn't lose faith in her first-born, she could trust her to see through such an ordeal.

Watching Catelyn being pulled away, Talisa moved to Robb's side and instead of being reminded of their wedding night, she saw a man full of betrayal and hate. She didn't like this side to Robb one bit. "She's your mother." She tried to reason with him.

"She freed Jaime Lannister. The Lannisters robbed them of their sons and she robbed them of their justice."

Talisa sighed at his stubbornness. "And what of your sister, if you are ever see her again are you going to behead her for treason?" She pressed, wanting to know if the man she had married could be capable of such things, especially those concerning his own family.

Robb looked to her then and she saw the hurt in his eyes, she knew he would not want to hurt his sister but with his banners, he would have no choice. "My sister is just as guilty." He told her, himself knowing that that was a lie, he wouldn't be able to do anything to Lia.

Talisa went to reply when coughing erupted from the wagon, drawing their gaze to a worn Maester. "Water. Water." He coughed, licking his lips while Talisa ran to the man with Robb following.

Robb pulled out his waterskin and brought it to the man's lips as Talisa inspected the wound. "This needs to be cleaned and closed." She called out, rushing off to her supplies.

The man took a large gulp as Robb lowered himself to his height. "What's your name, friend?" He asked as Talisa returned, applying a dressing to his neck to stop the bleeding.

"Qyburn." He rasped.

Talisa smiled, "You're lucky to be alive." She commented, resting a hand on his shoulder for comfort while she pressed hard on his wound.

"Lucky?"

* * *

They started east again on the road. The rain was blinding them as it drove into their faces, making it difficult for them to see into the distance. They should both been worn, from without food and without knowing where they were, but Jaime's spirit never dampened thanks to his never-ending optimism.

By late morning they had paused under the cover of an enormous tree. It provided them with excellent shelter, coated with leaves the size of grown men's hands. Eliana sunk down against the trunk and pulled her knees against her chest, slowly generating heat.

Watching her with his eyes, Jaime sighed and crouched before her, taking a swift gulp of their waterskin and then offering it to her. "If we reach a settlement by nightfall, we'll need a room and in the morning, horses will be of great need."

Eliana stared at him; knowing what he was insinuating and annoyed because he couldn't just ask her simply.  _Why must he play these games?_

"Don't look at me that way." Jaime smiled, placing a hand on her knee. "Your mother would have supplied you with funds... or did she expect you to whore you way south like you did in Dorne?" He joked, though she didn't look at all amused by the cruel joke and she yanked her knee away.

She didn't make to move.

"Unless you wish for me to unnecessarily grope you and dig around until I stumble across said funds, I suggest you hand it over  _now_."

Her mouth tightened, her face looking pained. "You're wrong though," She begun, reaching into her inner pocket and hesitantly handing him a small leather sack. "My mother never issued me any funds, Jaime."

His brow creased as he dumped the coins into his palm thoughtfully. "Where did you get this then if she didn't give it to you?" He wondered cautiously, eyeing her as he silently counted. "Hm - not that generous, shame. Though, it should be enough." He pocketed them.

SHe shrugged, refusing to meet those eyes of his. "I've had it long while." She answered, wondering herself why she'd never felt the need to spend it... to be honest she'd forgotten she had it on her. She had no need to buy anything recently, so it come of no use.

"Who gave it to you?"

Eliana's eyes snapped up to his face, his horrible, annoying face. "My father thought it would come of use in Dorne, he thought I would need it..." She paused, her eyes falling to the ground. "I never did."

His eyes softened and he suddenly felt guilty for demanding it from her. He sighed and nodded, "Think of it this way, you will benefit from this unless you want to sleep outside and die from the cold." She didn't answer and he knew he was right. "I didn't think so, let's go." Jaime helped her up and they started into the rain once more.


	16. Midnight Gambit

Talisa glanced behind, watching her husband as he silently stood above the hearth staring into the dances flames below. "My mother always told me you Westerosi were a grim lot." She begun, walking to him. "Grim, bearded, stinking barbarians that would row across the Narrow Sea and steal us from our beds." There was a soft cheekiness to her voice, playful and kind as she wrapped her arms around him.

"Did you ever think you'd marry one?"

Talisa sighed, "I never thought I'd marry anyone at all." She admitted, running her hands through the furs of his cloak.

"Never?" Robb frowned, turning around to face Talisa.

She smiled and shrugged, "Not until I met the king of the grim, bearded, stinking barbarians." Talisa slowly leant towards him and drew him into a kiss, ignoring the door opening.

"Pardon me, Your Grace." Roose Bolton called out to them as he entered to room, seeing the pair sharing a kiss. "My queen." He bowed his head in respect to the both of them while he carried to scrolls.

Talisa smiled. "Lord Bolton." She bowed her head.

Robb's eyes trailed to the scrolls in his hands, moving forward. "Let me guess which one is the good news." Robb sighed, putting on a smile.

Bolton, however, didn't smile. "Word from Riverrun and Winterfell."

At those words, Robb's face fell.

* * *

She wiped her eyes, not wanting him to see her tears. She couldn't believe her father was dead, she hadn't seen him in years - the last member of her family to see him was either Eliana or her uncle Brynden.  _He died alone..._  the guilt spoke. "I hadn't seen him in years. I don't even know how many." Catelyn sobbed, her eyes swimming to meet Robb's.

"We'll travel to the funeral together." Robb informed her. "Lord Bolton will garrison here until we return."

Catelyn closed her eyes, trying to rid herself of her tears. "Will I be wearing manacles when I lay my father to rest?" She pressed, wanting to know if she could hold her wrists without being reminded that she was a prisoner. Robb stared at her silently, and her anxiousness grew with concern. "Something else?" She dared to ask.

Robb looked down, his chest tighening. "By the time Bolton's bastard got to Winterfell, the ironborn were gone. They massacred everyone and put the castle to the torch." He paused, dread flowing through him as he continued to deliver the news that they'd hoped would never come. "And Bran and Rickon have not been found." Catelyn let out another sob,  _her two boys, her lovely boys..._  "They may have escaped. Or Theon may have taken them back to the Iron Islands as hostages." Robb carried on, willing himself to know believe that they were dead.

"Have you received any demands?" Catelyn rushed out, desperate to know.

Robb shook his head, sighing. "No."

"Have you heard anything from Theon at all?" Catelyn pleaded almost, needing to know if the boy who had caused this all had been caught.

"No." Robb answered again.

"And what of Bolton's hunters? Have they found your sister?" Catelyn rose to her feet, worried of not hearing anything of her daughter from her son.

"They have not been found."

Catelyn held her head high. "I would like to send a raven to Dorne."

Robb's brow furrowed quickly,  _why Dorne? What are they going to do?_ "Are the Martells going to come to your aid?" He asked, worrying for his mother as she spoke to him.

She sighed deeply. "No, but they will come because of your sister... Oberyn Martell loves her, he waits for her in Dorne." Catelyn explained clearly. "Do you not understand? If you rally the Dornish behind you, they can take the Capital from the South and you from the North. You can close in."

"But you're forgetting something." Robb noted slowly, still watching her sharply. "We don't have Lia."

"All the more reason for them to come."

* * *

If it were under any other circumstances, Eliana would have refused to even consider sharing a room with Jaime Lannister, but it was more practical than staying out in the cold. Her injuries, her sopping wet clothing, lack of food had worn her to the point where she couldn't be bothered the resist. When they saw the cluster of sout buildings with an innkeeper's sign clanking in the wind, the desire to be warm and dry, nourished with food pushed all other notions away.

Such as her irritation for Jaime Lannister.

He had her sword, her the gold she forgot she had.  _There may have been honour in him once, once..._ she thought bitterly, watching him stroll ahead of her. How could he be strolling after their fight and all this journey had put them through? Second thoughts, she realised she didn't care.

She lurked outside while Jaime conferred with the innkeeper, soon motioning for her to follow him. She wished that had chosen to not stay in an inn at all given that they were still in the North, she knew if seen, she would easily be recognised. She stepped through the doorway, avoiding attracting an unwanted attention to herself.

From what she could see, the inn was small with only a few tables occupied in the common room. As she crossed the room, two men were leaving and both glanced at her. They looked on, but then both glanced back at her and then she knew. She knew that they knew who she was. "I know you..." The first of the pair spoke, still eyeing her.

Jaime had been well ahead of her when this commotion had stirred but suddenly he was right there, grabbing the man's arm and turning him around. "Why are you pestering my lady friend?" He asked with a small, polite smile that only meant trouble.

The man didn't answer.

"You see when I was a boy, I was told it was rude to stay and approach a lady unannounced." Jaime continued, glaring. "And by the looks of it, you don't know my lady and my lady doesn't know you. So I suggest you apologise."

"Pardon," The man said with false courtesy, "I just thought your  _lady_ here reminded me of someone, that's all and it seems I made a mistake -"

In a split second, Jaime had angled the blade of his sword along the man's neck. "You think you're a funny man, I can tell... you're not funny."

 _So much for not attracting attention..._ Eliana thought to herself as she saw the innkeeper approach them.

"Outside," The innkeeper barked.

The man's companion had scarpered and left the man to Jaime's wrath. Jaime and the fellow on the end of his sword followed through the rickety door that shut soundlessly behind them.

She wanted to call him back, but she knew it was too late for that.

The little audience they had acquired, sitting at the tables, had resumed drinking and eating although a few uncertain glances flew her way. Thankfully, Jaime was back within moments, the sword re-sheathed, he then handed the innkeeper a few coins before reaching for her hand and leading her towards the private rooms.

"Please don't tell me you killed them." She said once the door was closed, "Please say you didn't. Tell me you didn't."

Jaime shot her a small smile before striding to the table where sat a small pitcher and soon took a drink, then moved to remove his cloak. "Would you rather me lie to you, Lia?"

"I would've you rather not have killed him." She argued.

Jaime laughed, "What are you going to do?" He raised an eyebrow, playfully. "Slap me on the wrist?  _Fight me?_ "

"Don't tempt me..."

"You amuse me, little wolf." He said, monotonously, turning on his heel. "I'm starved, so I am going to go back down to eat. I'll send someone up, as you said, it's best we don't draw attention to ourselves."

Eliana looked to him bitterly, "I think it's safe to say you've already ruined all hopes of  _that_." Upon hearing her words, Jaime left the room and she was grateful, grateful she could have a moment to herself. She sank down, collapsing into one of the overly large wooden chairs, with sopping wet clothes that no longer brought her any comfort and barely had any shape left to them.

The room was rather large and welcoming, much more than she'd expected for a wayside inn such as this one. Beside the table and chairs, there was a warm hearth, already started. Opposite the window, sat the bed which she couldn't bring upon herself to look at for the time being, despite how inviting it looked.

Jaime had kept his word, though. Soon after he'd left, a serving woman had ventured to the room with a plate of food and another pitcher of water. She'd left the plate on the table along with the pitcher and fled the room when Eliana had ordered her to. Once the door had shut again, Eliana sighed and rose to her feet. Out of caution, she positioned one of the chairs and propped it against the handle of the door; hopefully to slow down any unwelcome visitors trying to come in.

Her armour was the first to go, then followed by her baggy silken tunic and other various pieces of her clothing. Sighing to herself again, she took a wool blanket from the bed and then chose to cocoon herself before returning to set her damp things by the fire.

After eating, not particularly a lot, Eliana pulled out another chair and moved back towards the fire, re-adjusting her blanket and then sinking into the chair. She was dreading the moment of Jaime's return, already knowing that he would first engage in the unwelcoming banter concerning the fact that her clothes were off or that of the bed in the room.  _Probably both_...she thought to herself, rolling her eyes. But somehow, she managed to bypass those thoughts and relax with the warmth of the hearth.

The fire was dying peacefully and she'd finally found some solace from this little piece of luxury when the door banged open, jolting her from her sleep.

"Little wolf?! Where are you, are you hiding?"

Was he drunk? Second thoughts, she didn't care, yet she was weary. She'd never met a drunk Jaime Lannister, unknown to his attitude when drunk, she decided to approach with caution. "What do you want?" Her voice called him to her.

Jaime wandered over to her, frowning confusedly almost. He saw that she was no wearing her travel attire and in fact, was wrapped in a blanket. He then saw that she was sat by the fire and as far away from the bed as possible. "There is a bed." He announced, gestured to the four-poster in the room. "Do you intend to sleep in the chair?"

"Yes."

She expected him to argue with her, to tease her, taunt him... but he didn't.

"Very well, lovely Lia. Suit yourself, more room for me." He said, sauntering towards the far end of the room.

She let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, not sure if she should take the opportunity to re-claim her sword and stolen gold or simply take pleasure in the fact that he was leaving her be for once. She could him moving about, ridding himself of his clothes most likely, before climbing into bed.

She closed her eyes again when there were a few moments of silence, however, then he spoke again. His voice now had a drowsy, drunken tone to it. "Just to let you know, the weapons and gold are  _right here besides me_... you're welcome to  _try_  and get them back, though I should warn you, I am as naked as you are under these covers. So if you fancy a midnight gambit of the Lion and the Wolf..." He yawned and didn't finish the sentence, thankfully.

* * *

The troops marched along, once again on the move through the ongoing paths that led them towards Riverrun. It wasn't ideal but it would be wrong to bypass the funeral of his grandfather. "We're at war. This march is a distraction." Karstark hissed from Robb's side as they watched the troops before them.

"My grandfather's funeral is not a distraction." Robb chastised the man bitterly.

Karstark sighed but didn't fail to continue to pester Robb with unwanted questions. "Are we riding to battle at Riverrun?" He pressed, and Robb immediately knew what he was getting at.

"No."

"Then it's a distraction." Kastark confirmed.

Robb gritted his teeth in annoyance and shook his head. "My Uncle Edmure has his forces garrisoned there. We need his men." Robb told him, trying persuade him with the knowing of more men were waiting for them at Riverrun.

Karstark scoffed to himself, he knew as well as Robb that Riverrun had lost more than half of their troops at the battle of Whispering Wood. "Unless he's been breeding them, he don't have enough to make a difference."

Robb's face swung toward him in a moment of fury at the words reaching his ears. "Have you lost faith in our cause?" He inquired, raising an eyebrow, wanting to know if the man next to him had no more faith and was ready to run home.

Kastark nodded, "If it's revenge, I still got faith in it." He answered.

"If you no longer believe..." Robb begun but he was interrupted by Kastark.

"I can believe till it snows in Dorne. Don't change the fact that we've got half the men." He growled in reply, sour and bitter, knowing that his chances of revenge were slipping through his fingers with each day, each hour and each minute.

He smiled, scoffing to himself in disbelief. He thought their goal was clear, obviously not because now his men where questioning his clarity. "You don't think we can win?" He asked absently.

"May I speak my mind, Your Grace?"

Robb let out a breathless laugh, staring directly ahead of him. "Have you not been speaking your mind, Lord Karstark?" Robb said, watching as he wife rode by them, a smile trying force itself upon him.

Kastark also spotted her and grimaced. "I think you lost this war the day you married her." He admitted, staring darkly, knowing if Robb  _had_  married the Frey girl they would not be in the position they were now in.

Hearing the whining sounds of a horse, Catelyn's gaze trailed upwards and fell upon Talisa, her son's wife. She had to ignore all the anger and continued to make her prayer wheel. She missed the company of her daughter, the sarcastic comments that she would laugh and smile at... but she'd sent her on her way. "Whoa, whoa." She could hear  _her_ now and she glanced at the woman from Volantis once more.

"You're afraid of her. And she knows it." Catelyn commented, strangely feeling as though that would be something Eliana would say out of spite because she disliked the woman. She knew Talisa had done nothing to harm her but she didn't agree with the secret marriage.

"I'm not afraid of her." Talisa argued while her horse snorted, as though it was thinking otherwise. She saw Catelyn was busy constructing a wheel of sorts, though she had no understanding of why. "May I help you, Lady Stark?" She asked, afraid the woman would snap at her again, in truth, she had no way of knowing how to approach her.

"No."

The reply was sharp and bitter that it startled Talisa. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..." She started but Catelyn caught her off her guard yet again.

"You can't help because a mother makes one for her children to protect them. Only a mother can make them." Catelyn in the space of a few seconds, had gone from being a hostile northern soul, to being an innocent mother. It showed her pained, broken heart and her fragile persona that was crumbling to pieces.

Talisa pulled off her gloves, tilting her head. She was now reassured that Catelyn Stark did not completely hate her. "You've made them before?" She frowned, sitting near her, wanting to watch this strange tradition.

"Thrice."

"Did they work?" Talisa asked quietly.

Catelyn knew she had to be civil to this woman for Robb's sake, so she nodded. "After a fashion." She started, cautiously sending her a look and the paused in her making. "I prayed for my son Bran to survive his fall. Years before, my daughter Lia, came down with a fever that she caught from her father... many years before that, one of the boys came down with the pox." Catelyn explained to her, her hands slowing winding the material around the wheel. "Maester Luwin said if he made it through the night, he'd live. But it would be a very long night. So I sat with him all through the darkness. Listened to his ragged little breaths, his coughing, his whimpering."

Talisa's eyes narrowed, "Which boy?"

"Jon Snow." She let out, feeling the loathing feeling come rushing back. "When my husband brought that baby home from the war, I couldn't bear to look at him. I didn't want to see those brown stranger's eyes staring up at me." She told the young woman truthfully, seeing no point in disguising what a horrible person she was. "So I prayed to the gods,  _take him away. Make him die_... he got the pox." Her voice was quiet now, barely audible. "And I knew I was the worst woman who ever lived." Catelyn paused, remembering how Eliana had shouted at her when she would glower at Jon, remembering how  _her_ children loved him.

She sucked in a breath, she was guilty beyond measure but that boy would never forget her and how she treated him. "A murderer. I'd condemned this poor, innocent child to a horrible death all because I was jealous of his mother.  _A woman he didn't even know_." Catelyn bit out, ashamed of herself, for all she'd done. "So I prayed to all seven gods,  _let the boy live. Let him live and I'll love him. I'll be a mother to him. I'll beg my husband to give him a true name, to call him Stark and be done with it, to make him one of us_." Catelyn remembered, while Talisa sat silently and listened.

"And he lived." Talisa added, a small smile on her lips. She didn't truly think that Catelyn was a bad person...  _any mother would have done the same, wouldn't have they?_  She found herself asking.

She nodded. "And he lived... and I couldn't keep my promise." Catelyn sighed, it was her fault... all of this, everything that had happened was because of her and her unkept promises.  _Her jealousy_. "And everything that's happened since then... all this horror that's come to my family... it's all because  _I_  couldn't love a motherless child." She closed her eyes, wishing she had the power to turn back time and could have the chance to love Jon Snow but, that would never be possible.


	17. Plums

Catelyn and Robb stood silently, watching as Hoster Tully slowly floated down the Trident. Talisa stood at her husband's side, clinging to his arm as she observed silently. On Catelyn's side, stood her father's brother Brynden Tully. He was tall and lean, with lined and weathered features. His once-auburn hair had gone to grey, accompanied by bushy eyebrows and bright blue eyes.

In front of them, a man with auburn hair and cyan blue eyes with a fierce beard pulled out an arrow, notched it in his bow and lit it carefully. He wore bright mail, looking ready for battle as his cloak, flowing blue-and-red and mud-and-water billowed in the wind. It was Edmure Tully, Catelyn's younger brother. Edmure drew back the arrow and hesitated, testing for the wind before letting it fly through the air.

The arrow missed.

Catelyn watched her brother, her hearts sinking further into her chest as she saw her father drift further and further away while Edmure continued to miss his shots.

Edmure tried two more times, and missed them both.

Outraged and sick of seeing his brother dishonoured by his  _own_ son, Brynden charged forward and snatched the bow from his nephew and shoved him away. Brynden notched and lit the arrow, then he glanced to a flag bearing the sigil of House Tully. Sighing, he drew the arrow and let it fly. Satisfied that the shot was good, Brynden turned on his heel and forced the bow into the chest of Edmure.

Almost immediately, the boat with Hoster Tully, caught alight.

* * *

Robb stared across the lands of Riverrun, taking in the fields of green and the rivers of blue he'd seen as a small infant. "If I may, nephew, I encountered a situation with one of my lieutenants at the Stone Mill which may have some bearing..." Edmure was saying before Brynden cut him off abruptly.

"Why don't you shut your mouth about that damned mill?" Brynden spat, knowing that Edmure was a fool. A damn fool. "And don't call him "nephew." He is your king."

Edmure rolled his eyes, annoyed that his uncle was interfering yet again. "Robb knows I meant him no disr..." Edmure tried, seeing Brynden walking towards him with a dark look on his face.

"You're lucky I'm not your king. I wouldn't let you wave your blunders around like a victory flag." Brynden sneered.

Edmure glared, accept his challenge. "My blunder sent Tywin's mad dog scurrying back to Casterly Rock with his tail between his legs." He argued angrily, "I think King Robb understands we're not gonna win this war if he's the only one winning any battles." He stated.

"No."

Edmure sighed, "There's glory enough to go around."

Sick of their childish bickering, Robb lost his patience. "It's not about glory." Robb confirmed, while Brynden smirked and moved away. "Your instructions were to wait for him to come to you." He told his uncle, irritated that he'd ignored his wishes.

"I seized an opportunity." Edmure let out, gesturing that he'd done Robb a favour.

Robb nodded, frowning. "What value was the mill?" He inquired.

"The Mountain was garrisoned across the river from it." Edmure answered.

"Is he there now?"

Edmure scoffed, "Of course not. We took the fight to him. He could not withstand us."

"I wanted to draw the Mountain into the west, into our country where we could surround him and kill him. I wanted him to chase us, which he would have done because he is a  _mad dog_  without a strategic thought in his head." Robb growled, bearing his teeth at his uncle, angry that he'd let the Mountain slip through their fingers. "I could have that head on a spike by now. Instead, I have a mill."

Brynden laughed to himself as he drunk from his goblet, satisfied that Robb had ripped into Edmure and put him in his place.

But Edmure still persevered. "We took hostages. Willem Lannister. Martyn Lannister."

"Willem and Martyn Lannister are fourteen years old." Robb watched his uncle, seeing how truly idiotic he'd been to take back a mill.

Brynden spoke then, "Martyn is fifteen, I believe." He corrected Robb.

Slowly, Robb walked towards his uncle, staring him directly in the eye, wanting him to realise his mistake. "Tywin Lannister has my sisters. Have I sued for peace?" He asked Edmure, wanting him to answer him.

"No."

Robb nodded in understanding. "Do you think he'll sue for peace because we have his father's brother's great-grandsons?" He tilted his head in question.

Edmure hesitated this time. "No."

"How many men did you lose?"

Edmure closed his eyes, wishing he hadn't challenged Robb now. "Two hundred and eight. But for every man we lost, the Lannisters..."

"We need our men more than Tywin needs his!" Robb exclaimed, vexed that he would compared the lives of their men to Lannister soldiers... they didn't matter to Robb, he needed an army - no statistics.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Robb never took his eyes off his uncle, but he also saw that Edmure couldn't look him int he eye; guilt. "You would have. Right here today at this gathering if you had been patient." Robb reminded, turning away to move back towards the window where he could look out over Riverrun.

Brynden clasped his hands together and sighed, "We seem to be running short of patience here." He informed Robb.

"You know who isn't? Tywin Lannister."

* * *

Jaime awoke to an uncomfortable chill in the room. He saw that the fire was almost out, so he threw back the furs and padded over to the hearth, bent his knees and fed it a few smaller sticks in a hope of keeping it alive. He ran a hand along his face, feeling as though he'd met a stone wall some when during the night...  _probably while trying to open that blasted door._  He told himself, feeling groggy.

The cool air felt good against his skin, despite the small bumps covering his skin. Rising, he stretched, watching as the flames re-ignited around the new wood. He slowly glanced over at Eliana's from, smiling softly. She looked peaceful, despite reclining herself to that ugly, uncomfortable looking chair. Her head was slumped against her own arm and that of the chair's. The woolen blanket she had wrapped herself in had slipped away slightly, exposing her collar bone and white shoulder to Jaime's eyes. He stared at the exposed skin, unable to pull his gaze away. He put it down to the normal reminder that she was usually covered in her armour and so, he wouldn't be subjected to the soft looking skin below.

It allowed his mind to wander,  _if she didn't want all those things that other women wanted, she must have a woman's heart... easily played and easily broken?_ He questioned himself, still staring at the Stark beauty. He shook his head,  _No Ned gave her the chance, and she refused... though I don't blame her, it would appear to be a waste considering her skill._

Over the year's, Jaime had encountered a vast amount of feckless lord's sons, bastards... they barely knew how to hold a sword properly, let alone swing one. He'd rather have Eliana on his side than half a pathetic dozen of them. But she would never be on his side, though. She was too good for that, too proud to degrade herself to fight with a Lannister. He knew she would rather fight  _a_ Lannister. She was too full of honour and justice, drowning in importance of vows and promises.

He was worried that her being that way would end her, and he didn't want that to happen.

Feeling an odd, strong impulse, Jaime carefully laid his hand upon her bare shoulder. He watched as she shifted slightly but didn't wake. He was thankfully, knowing he would be caught in a rather odd place if she'd woken to him touching her bare skin. Her skin was cool, though the flesh beneath his hand felt surprisingly soft and he liked it.

However, knowing he couldn't keep it there, Jaime let his hand drop and then he returned to the bed.

* * *

Brynden smiled sadly when he saw his Cat staring out from the window her son had looked out from a few hours ago. He'd never seen her look so sad, so broken and so lonely. "A person could almost be forgiven for forgetting we're at war." She spoke softly, her voice thick with sorrow and regret.

"It often comforts me to think that even in war's darkest days, in most places in the world absolutely nothing is happening." He replied, seeing a small smile form on his niece's lips, knowing he'd improved her mood slightly.

Catelyn turned to look up at him, "I've missed you, Uncle." She told the aged man, seeing her father in him. "Father missed you, too, from the day you left. Maybe he never said it in so many words..." She shrugged, seeing the amused look on Brynden face at her words.

" _Maybe?_  Your father was a stubborn old ox." Brynden comforted Catelyn, still smiling sadly. "I was surprised when he died... didn't think death had the patience."

"I'm glad you were with him. I wish to the gods I had been." She said, watching him. "Did you make peace in the end?"

Brynden smiled to himself, "After thirty years of fighting, I don't think he remembered what started it. He asked me to stop calling myself Blackfish. He said it was an old joke and it was never funny to begin with. I told him people had been calling me Blackfish for so long, they don't remember my real name." He explained to her, seeing her smile again and turn away. "Though, I saw his spirit rise, when he laid his eyes on his little fawn again."

That drew Catelyn back to him then. "Lia was here?" It came out in a whisper.

Brynden nodded, "Yes, she spent a fortnight here after her travels from Dorne... never seen the man happier in all his years of being ill." He paused briefly, "That girl truly compliments both you and Ned; she's a lovely girl, Cat. You must persuade Robb to not harm her, should he ever see her again."

Catelyn nodded, "Robb would never hurt her, he loves her too much but the banners... they may have a different view on the matter." She didn't want to think of that ever happening, truthfully, she didn't want to think of Lia. She knew that her daughter could be killed for treason upon arrival at the capital, so she talked about her father. "...Every time he would leave for the capital or fight in a campaign, I'd see him off.  _Wait for me, little Cat_ , he'd say." She remembered. " _Wait for me and I'll come back to you_. And I would sit at this window every day when the sun came up, waiting."

Brynden could hear the tears and he knew she was crying, crying for the loss of her father, for the loss on her sons, for the loss of her husband... everything.

"I wonder how many times did Bran or Rickon stare across the moors of Winterfell waiting for me to return... I- I will never see them again." Sobs made her words inaudible by the end, she couldn't control herself anymore, so stricken with grief.

Not wanting to see her this way, Brynden moved to her side and took her hands in his own. "You mustn't think it. We don't know the truth. They could be in hiding..." He suggested, not wanting to give up all hope of finding those two boys alive and well. "Robb believes they're alive and he must go on believing. He's got to remain strong if he's to prevail. And you  _must_  remain strong for him."

They stared at each other, and the tears stopped, the crying stopped and for the first time in a long while, Catelyn felt strong again.

* * *

A few days had passed, and Eliana's patience was wearing drastically thin. She was  _slowly_ edging closer to gaining the power of balance of Jaime. He'd surprised her by keeping his promise and returning her sword to her the morning after their inn stay, once they'd finally managed to obtain horses. Even when he had started South, she knew she should've have returned North, but she didn't. She had followed him.

She was finding it hard to stay focused, she kept telling herself that she was still serving her mother in all of this and she had to ensure Jaime Lannister got to King's Landing, and effectively release Sansa. To her, it didn't matter if they were travelling like companions, but she certainly didn't like him besting her in the arrogant way he chose to. She did like certain qualities his possessed but he was incapable of redeeming himself.

She dared not admit to herself that she was drawn to something within him that was no dead, that was no worthless. Something that was calling out to her and asking for a chance - no matter how arrogant - to be seen differently. But she knew he would scoff and reject her if she let her guard down with him for a moment, if she implied that she thought there was more to him than what was to be seen.

Eliana felt as thought she was being pulled in so many different directions, by duty, by instinct, by honour, by family. This had never happened before, they had never misaligned and it scared her.

Jaime was indifferent to most humans she'd encountered in her lifetime. She had conflict opinions of him but she wouldn't reveal any to him anytime soon.

Tonight, the rain was attacking harshly but they didn't take shelter, simply because Eliana didn't want to stop and pause their movement anymore than necessary to not reach King's Landing in time. Jaime had been moaning about her poor choice for a while, yet she'd chosen to ignore him all together and continued along the road atop her horse, though, she heard him going on about something to with a farmer's barn.

As her horse sped ahead, she could hear Jaime's galloping to catch up. "You know, lovely Lia..." Jaime started, appearing by her side. "If we were to stay in another inn, I would believe it would be more sufficient than us traipsing along the road sopping wet and miserable." She shot him a look and he closed his eyes. "If my lady prefers..."

"We can't sleep in an inn  _every_ night." Eliana commented, dryly.

Jaime sighed, "I should've ignored you and knocked on that farmer's door anyway, begging for a bed for my lady's sake." He let out, angrily.

"Don't be an arse," Eliana replied, "You  _did_ say you wanted to get to King's Landing as soon as possible. This is enough." And with that, she dropped from her horse and walked it under a rather large tree for shelter and tied it to the fat trunk.

When Jaime saw her move away, he let of a melodramatic sigh of relief, dropping their supplies to the floor and leading his own horse over as well, "I suppose one of us should water the horses..."

"Yes, you should."

He turned and looked and her bewildered. Did she really expect  _him_ to do that? He looked at her face and saw that she had no intention of jesting with him, and in the end he sighed in defeat. "Suit yourself, little wolf..." He muttered, moving to the horses, untying them and walking to the small stream below the steep bank near the tree.

Jaime paused by the stream, washed his face, drank and waited for the horses. He remembered spotting several plum trees a few yards back, he meant to go back and fill a sack with them. He pushed himself up and pulled the horses back the way they had came.

Upon returning to where they had settled, he tied up the animals where they could graze, and then went in search for the plum trees. He knew that plums wouldn't be much, but it was better than nothing at all. Earlier that had shared a rabbit around noon and had not eaten since then, so he figured she would enjoy the sweet taste of plums.

Carrying back two sacks of plums, Jaime smiled to himself. "She better kiss me for this..." He told himself, not really understanding why he went to this much trouble to get those blasted plums and want to please Eliana Stark by doing so. However, when he returned he dropped the sacks when he saw her sat with the swords, waiting for him.

She looked angry, and he had no clue why. And he was scared. "Lia, what's the matter?" He pressed, placing down the plums.

"I think we should reconsider the way this is going; we're acting like companions... we're not." Eliana spoke, rising easily. She stared at the man before her, watched his fringe cloud his view. She chucked his sword to the floor, it left a puff of dust in the air. "Come, take your blade, Ser."

Jaime laughed, "You've got to be joking, Lia... I have no intention of fighting you  _again_." He surrendered, raising his hands but he knew she wasn't joking around by the stern look she wore. "You can tie me up again - I don't mind! I just don't want to fight you." He opened the sack and offered her a plum. "Have one, they're ripe and quite sweet."

Eliana stared at him blankly, wondering to herself why he'd changed the subject. "Plums..." She mused slowly, examining him with her eyes. Jaime looked tired and worryingly thin, he'd lost all the muscle and stocky build of his body during the long period of his imprisonment. "Strange, I never took you for a coward." She admitted, smiling to herself. "I expected you to be  _more_  of a man."

He hated that word,  _coward_ , it made him seem weak and he was not. "Fine, if it's a fight you want, it's a fight you'll get." He grabbed the sword and glared, this was not how he wanted to end tonight, yet, he then chose to move forward.

They thrusted and parried, their movements alternatively rapid or deceptively slow, the melody of swords the only sounds to disturb the stillness. With powerful swipes, Eliana proceeded to show exactly how weak Jaime had become. In the next moment, the sword flew from his hand to land in the dirt, the steel gleaming dull silver. The point of Eliana's blade came to rest at the hollow of Jaime's throat.

"Do you yield,  _coward_?"

With a start, she realised her voice had lowered to that dangerous growl that Oberyn was so fond of hearing. Inexplicably, Eliana's eyes were drawn to the strong neck, the thin crimson line already blossoming against the paled skin. Eliana's gaze travelled to Jaime's face, where dismay and defiance warred.  _Oh. So now he decides to shut that arrogant mouth of his..._  the sword dug deeper.

"Do you yield?"

An angry look, then a curt nod. Jaime glowered, when he saw her back turn away from him, he chose to run to his sword. "You should know,  _woman_ , I don't take well to being bested, especially by the likes of you."

Knowing what he would do, she turned and kicked him in the gut, sighing. "Is  _woman_ meant to insult me? You don't tell me what to do, you want me to listen to you... then you must earn my respect." She stared down at him, gritting her teeth and hold his gaze. "I would also prefer you rather ask to touch me instead of refraining to do so until you think I am not conscious."

Astonished by her speech, Jaime stared at her unable to speak anything useful. He couldn't believe she knew that he'd touched her.  _She'd been asleep! Asleep!_ Why did he even touch her in the first place? Gods, he felt so stupid. Lost in his thoughts, Jaime didn't see Eliana turn to face something in front of her, he didn't see her reach for her sword but he did hear her call his name.

"Jaime."

In front of them stood a tall, gaunt man with a two-feet-long goatee dangling from a pointed chin. He wore a chain of linked coins and from what Jaime and Lia could see, they were from a vast number of places over the Seven Kingdoms. He rode a azorse, and in his hand sat a helm shaped like a goat's head, his coat of arms also bore the Black Goat of Qohor along with the banner of House Bolton.

The man bent down and picked up one of the plums that had escaped the sack, he brushed of the dirt and took a bite. "Looks like your woman's getting the better of you." He commented, his perpetually swollen tongue that made him speak with a lisp and slobber like a hound which caused Jaime laugh.

"Your name, friend?!" Eliana called out to him, elbowing Jaime in the gut, and then warily moving forward but Jaime pushed her back behind him.

The man sighed, taking another bite of his plum. "Vargo Hoat, and yours?" He moved towards them, smiling menacingly.

Jaime smiled falsely, ignored his question and sheathed his sword. "We enjoy a good fight... gets our juices flowing." He explained, his eyes seeing the banner of Bolton. "The Flayed Man of House Bolton. A bit gruesome for my taste."

Vargo narrowed his eyes at Jaime, as though he knew him but he couldn't place it but he definitely knew the female. "Ah, my lady of Stark..." He started, seeing Eliana's face fell. "Your brother,  _so I've heard_ , isn't very happy with you... ah, the Kingslayer." He concluded slowly.

Jaime grimaced and looked back at Eliana, who was staring at Vargo and his men. He sighed and turned back to face him, not prepared to be captured yet again. "Let us go and my father will pay you whatever you want." He bribed the man carefully, though, not avoiding his arrogance one bit.

"Enough to buy me a new head?" Vargo taunted, still wearing that smile of his. "If the King in the North hears I had the Kingslayer and his sister and let them go, he'll be taking it right off... I'd rather he takes yours." He announced before he and his men closed in around them.


	18. For the Chop

" _He lifted her high in the air... He sniffed and roared and smelled her there... She kicked and wailed a maid so fair... But he licked the honey from her hair... From there to here, from here to there, all black and brown and covered with hair, he smelled that girl in the summer air. The bear, the bear and the maiden fair..._ " Hoat and his men sung as they rode along the road.

They had not spoken to one another since he had warned her what the marauders would do to her when they stopped to camp for the night. To both of their delight, they were roped together on horseback, wrists and ankles bound while Jaime's back was pressed up against her own. The ropes were so tight that their limbs had long since gone numb. As soon as Jaime began to speak, the marauder named Rorge had drawn nearer to them and stared at them both suspiciously with his small beady eyes. Jaime didn't speak again after that, which gave Eliana sometime to allow his words to sink in. He hadn't said it to be cruel - it was simply the undying truth. They were going to rape her; there was absolutely no doubt about that. He just wanted her to go and find that place deep inside of her where all her happy memories were - just so she could get through it and survive. But he was damn sure she would fight them... he dreaded to think what else they would do to her if she did.

He was growing uneasy and his unease only grew as the sky darkened above him. If she was worried for her own welfare, she was bloody good at hiding it. She had said absolutely nothing to him of the matter.  _She thinks I was pulling her leg..._  Jaime thought to himself. Eliana was so naïve but she was headstrong and wilful, determined to not allow the influence of others to get the better of her. Eliana's world was not the faceless reality Jaime wallowed in. In her world, there was clear divide between good and evil, honour and dishonour, what's right and what's wrong. He knew that tonight would change her when the Marauders took turns raping her - she wouldn't be the same after but he couldn't help but think she wouldn't let it happen without a fight.

"Eliana," He whispered. He couldn't see her face when they were bound like they were, but, he knew she was listening to him. He wanted to find the right words to say, to tell but then they came to stop and then he realised what was happening. The time had come to set up camp for the night.

* * *

Eliana only thought on what Jaime had said for only a moment. She wasn't going to listen to him, he wasn't a woman.  _And what did he say if he was? That he would make them kill him._ She would fight them until her last; they would get no pleasure from her. When they stopped for camp, she'd been cut from the Kingslayer and then tied to a large Sentinel tree. Jaime had also been tied to one; both were quite a way away from the campsite. They were given food - consisting of a thin broth with a crusty piece of bread each. Eliana, unlike Jaime who finished his within a few minutes of receiving it, pushing hers aside. She had no appetite. She was thinking of her sister's, Sansa and Arya. And of Robb, fighting this war. Also of her mother and how Catelyn had put all her hope in her eldest daughter and how she had failed... just as she failed to protect Eddard, her father.

Then they came for her. The three brave companions of Vargo Hoat. Rorge, fat Zollo, and Shagwell. She had prepared herself, she'd been face to face with rapers before but that time she was armed, this time she was helpless and tied to a tree. She pulled on her restrains, not to run away but to fight. She wanted to slay them right where they stood leering hungrily. Then they began arguing between themselves, who would go first, and where. She knew that Jaime was watching her, and for some estranged reason it was worse that he would see what they were going to do to her.  _Try to do_ , she reminded herself, because she wasn't going to let them enjoy what they planned.

Rorge crouched down in front of her, the remaining rotting teeth he had left glistened in the campsite fire which glowed to the side of them. His voice was slobbery and had the reminiscences of ale which was filtering not so nicely up her nose. "We're going to fuck you bloody, and then, we're going to fuck you again." He then moved to undo her restrains but before he did, he pulled at her chest, pinching her breast hard. "She had got tits under all that armour of hers."

"Cut if off then, let's have a look!" Shagwell barked. Rorge tore at her clothes but he'd forgotten she was no longer tied to the tree. In one swift movement, she was gone - free from Rorge's hold. The three of them stared in confusion, it took them a long moment to realise she'd escaped them.

The three oafs looked around them, in hope to see where she had gone. Shagwell went to run in one direction but an elbow met him square in the face, followed by a smash in the groin. His eyes went wide and he fell to the leaf ridden floor.

Zollo's eyes zeroed in on her and he drew his dagger from his waist. "You bitch!"

Eliana nodded, "That's me." She agreed, her eyes trained on the blade shining in his hand.

"Stop," A stern voice commanded the three oafs as they were about to try and recapture the Stark girl. They retreated quickly like a band of dogs obeying their master's commands. "Lady Eliana of the House Stark is worth far more to Lord Tywin untouched." Vargo Hoat stood over them with his sword drawn. He sent her an eerie grin before murmuring something he'd long desired. "Gold, lots of gold." Hoat told his three men, although the three of them still laid winded on the undergrowth, groaning in pain.

Eliana looked to Jaime, and he must've sensed her eyes on him and met her gaze.  _He stopped them somehow..._  she realised,  _but why?_

"Unbesmirched." Hoat was saying when she was led back to the tree by his men, who looked a little wary when going to touch her, clearly frightened she would attack them again. Hoat was staring down at Jaime, wanting him to continue with his speech now that he'd stopped to listen to it.

Jaime sighed, his eyes still on Eliana. "Not defiled." He replied, wincing as he tried to stretch out his legs.

"Fancy word for a fancy man."

He sat forward, nodding, agreeing with Hoat. "I hated to read as a child, but my father forced me to study the books every morning before I could practice with sword or horse. Two hours every day holed up in the maester's chambers. I learned a lot of fancy words..." Jaime finally looked at Hoat, pulling his gaze from Eliana as she stood there watching them silently.

Hoat narrowed his eyes at him. "I bet you did." Looking to Eliana, he sighed and knelt down beside Jaime and lent near his ear. "Your father, he'd pay your weight in gold to get you back? And her?"

"You'll be a rich man till the end of your days. And your sons will be rich men and their sons after them. Lands, titles ... you'll have them all." Jaime vowed, hesitantly looking around them. "The North can't win this war. You're a smart man, you understand that. We have the numbers, we have the gold." He continued, glad that he was now getting through to the man and also because he had saved Lia.

"Aye, you have both."

Jaime closed his eyes with a soft sigh. "Fighting bravely for a losing cause is admirable. Fighting for a winning cause is far more rewarding." He informed the man with the pointed, ever-growing goatee.

"Hard to argue with that." Hoat told him truthfully.

"Now that we're speaking together man to man, I wonder if you need to keep me chained to this tree." Jaime gestured to his chains and jingling them as Eliana stared at him feeling the three men now near her. "I'm not asking to be freed from my constraints, but if I could sleep lying down, my back would thank you for it. I'm not as young and resilient as I was once..."

Jaime knew it was a risky request but he certainly didn't expect the man to allow him that.

Hoat smiled crookedly. "None of us are." He rose to his feet and turned to his men, "Unchain Ser Jaime from the tree... suppose you'll be wanting something to eat?" Hoat questioned as he men moved to set Jaime free of his chains.

"I'm famished, actually." Jaime answered; yet, Eliana could help but feel as that this was some cruel jape that would end in tears for Jaime. She'd wished he'd been less arrogant and stopped and actually thought his actions through for once.

Hoat glanced at Eliana with a glint in his eye that she couldn't place. "I think we've got a spare partridge on the fire." He thought, frowning as he men lifted Jaime so he could stand properly.

Jaime smiled, noting that Eliana's eyes did not leave him. "Well, I do like partridge."

Hoat slowly led Jaime away while Eliana watched them go, "Bring the bird over here and the carving knife." He commanded, pausing and turning to face Jaime as he was stood behind him, waiting. "Will this work as a table, my lord?" Hoat gestured to the tree stump to his right.

"Oh, yes." Jaime nodded in agreement. "Yes, this will do nic... ah!" He grunted when he was kicked to the floor and thrown against the stump roughly.

Hoat stalked forward, the carving knife in hand while his other took a strong hold of Jaime's hair. "You think you're the smartest man there is. That everyone alive has to bow and scrape and lick your boots." He hissed in his ear

But Jaime refused to stay quiet. "My father..." He begun but was cut off when Hoat pressed the blade against his eye.

"And if you get in any trouble, all you've got to do is say  _my father_  and that's it, all your troubles are gone." Hoat growled, watching as he tried to pull himself away from the knife and back away.

"Don't." He let out, trying to wriggle free.

"Have you got something to say? Careful. You don't want to say the wrong thing." Hoat twisted the blade against his closed eye, hearing Jaime grunt in nervousness, scared. "You're nothing without your daddy, and your daddy ain't here.  _Never forget that_." Hoat said, letting go of his hair and moving away. "Here, this should help you remember."

She didn't hear their conversation but she saw the knife flash silver as Hoat raised it above Jaime's head and she didn't know why she did it, why she began to protest. She had shouted for them to stop, shouted for them to leave him alone and chain him back up again but they did not listen to her. She watched the knife with wide eyes, and she knew when it had come down. Jaime  _screamed_. The scream, however, was cut abruptly short when Jaime passed out from the pain.

Eliana stared as he collapsed in a heap on the ground that was swimming with autumn leaves. On the stump, sat his hand which was leaking blood and growing violently pale and lifeless in the light of the flame as was Jaime.

She started forward, her legs doing the thinking and not her brain. She didn't take her eyes off Hoat as she reached for the pot simmering above the fire, she took the handle and with one strong, untimed swing she let the contents empty over him.

His own scream was satisfying to hear.

She watched as the man cried out, the hot contents burning his skin as it soaked him. Hoat turned, wiped his eyes and face clean of the stew but then his gaze landed on her. He sneered and bared his teeth, glowering dangerously. "Grab her!" Hoat exclaimed, angrily, wiping to hot stew from his face. He never expected this from the Stark girl, but he wouldn't let her do it again. "Hold her down!" He added, collecting the carving knife once more. He wiped Jaime's blood off on his rags and sighed when he turned to look at Eliana pinned on the ground.

Even as he stood over, Eliana felt as though she'd done something right; if she hadn't acted, she could be returning Jaime in pieces to King's Landing and so she chose to save his life to prevent that from happening but now, she was the one in danger. "You don't know what a stupid mistake you've made,  _girl_." He spat, his slobber hitting her cheeks while he hovered above.

Hoat sighed, pressing the blade against the left side of her face. He smiled when he saw her wince under the blade. "Don't like that do you..." He trailed off, tilting his head. He looked to his men and laughed. "Let's make a few adjustments, lads!" Hoat hollered, pressing the knife into her skin and piercing it.

She couldn't explain the pain nor why this was happening to her, all she could feel was the sharp edge cutting through her skin as Hoat dragged it downwards. Unlike like Jaime, she didn't have the chance to scream because she then too, passed out.


	19. Scream

She awoke with a searing pain in the left side of her face. She couldn't move her jaw or open her eye, and she dared not touch that side of her face. It was dawn from what she could tell as she looked up to the sky and saw a dark grey-purple looming over her. Suddenly her mind flew to Jaime, she moved her head a little too quickly and she knew it; a sharp stinging sensation shot through her body.

She found him. He was slumped against a tree, his face turned away from her so she couldn't tell whether he was awake or not - she guess he probably didn't, especially if he came round.

Little was said as the group readied for another day of travel; she and Jaime shared the same horse, as there was  _only_ one to spare. They were bound facing each other this time as well, much to the amusement of mummers. Jaime's eyes stared for leagues, seeing nothing before him.  _He's gone to that place inside of him,_ Eliana concluded,  _The place he told me to go_... and she couldn't help but wonder when he would return.

He'd been slipping in and out of consciousness all day, and she had to steady the saddle many a time to ensure he didn't fall. However, she eventually settled for supporting him with her arms, wrapping them around his waist and steadied him against her. He slumped against, his head falling against her left shoulder. Despite the screams calling from her left side, Eliana felt a sudden surge of protectiveness over him. She had spent honours pondering over why he had stopped them from raping her. He didn't have to do that for her, she never expected that of him... and she was slowly realising that there was definitely more to Jaime Lannister than she first thought.

As his severed hand tied around his neck dangled between, Jaime finally spoke for the first time that day. "Water," He croaked, lifting his head, his eyes struggling to focus on Eliana's face. She didn't like the look in his eyes, she didn't like seeing him weak - naked almost.

"He needs water." She called out, ignoring the screams of pain coming from the left side of her body.

"He can kiss my arse!" One of the Mummers cackled.

"He needs water, or he'll die! He's lost a lot of blood -" Eliana argued, stopping suddenly when Hoat thrusted a canteen in between them. She looked away when Jaime forget that they had taken his hand. She winced when his stump banged against the container and a moment later he grew unconscious once more.

When he finally came around again, Eliana lifted the container to his lips and helped him to drink. A small troop of rivulets of water ran down his chin and throat as he drunk thirstily. After, he rested again.  _Water_ , was the only word he said all day.

Later, however, when Eliana found herself drifting and after hours of taunting him, Jaime fell from their horse. "Someone help him!" She shouted, seeing him hit the mud with a thick splash. Unable to stand, Jaime repeatedly slipped in the mud as he attempted to regain his footing.

He moaned and muttered inaudible words that none could make out. Rolling his eyes, Hoat offered him another container once he'd slid from his horse and approached. "Oh, enough... here." He handed it to him, watching as he brought it to his lips and drunk thirstily once more. "Can't say that I've ever seen a man drink horse piss that fast."

At that, Jaime spat out the substance and became to gag. Eliana closed her eyes, tired of their taunting and attitude towards him. But it was when Jaime managed to disarm one of his men that Eliana threw herself from the horse, she knew they would beat him and she could stand to watch that happen. "Stop!" She shouting, running towards them and bursting through the group when he was kicked to the ground. That was only okay when she did that. She managed to kick and send a few men into the mud but she couldn't protect Jaime.

Hoat stopped them, finally hearing and seeing enough of them attempting to overpower them. "Far enough." He sighed, kicking Jaime continuously in the gut and then slamming his boot down on his hand and pressing until he let go of the sword. Hoat kicked him once more and crouched down next to him. "Do that again and I'll take your other hand."

He then walked to Eliana and smiled, admiring his word on the left side of her face. "You forget, little girl... one side is still pretty but we can make that go away in an instant." He threatened, pressing his hand against the sore, cracked skin. "Do that again, and I will  _ruin_  you."

* * *

Eliana sat watching Jaime as the fire crackled and hissed between them. He was just there, doing nothing, no replying, nothing and she didn't like it. "Eat." She said, scared by his silence. "What are you doing?"

He let out a sigh of defeat. "I'm dying." Jaime answered her quietly.

Eliana scoffed, not believing a single word of what he'd spoke just then. "You can't die... you need to live to take revenge." She insisted, trying to will him to go on and perhaps manage to kill Hoat if given the chance to do so.

"I don't care about revenge."

She glared suddenly, shaking her head at his pathetic reply. This was not the Jaime Lannister she met in Winterfell, not the man she shared teasing banter with, not the man she'd grown fond of. "You coward." She spat, her voice full of pity and annoyance. "A little misfortune and you're giving up."

That made him look at her for the first time since he'd lost his hand. "Misfor..." He trailed off when he saw her face, the deep, disintegration on the left side of her face. What had happened to her? He realised he was staring, he coughed and averted his gaze to look at the fire. "Misfortune?" He questioned, still not able to rid his mind of the gleaming cut across her face.

Eliana was thankful he'd seen what she'd gotten in return for saving him from any further torture. "You lost your hand." It was an honest statement, though she knew Jaime would not like it.

"My sword hand." Jaime told her in return. "I  _was_  that hand."

She looked away, laughing at his words. "You have a taste...  _one taste_  of the real world where people have important things taken from them and you whine and cry and quit. You sound like a bloody woman.  _A woman_... you lost you hand, so what?" She shrugged, not bothered that he'd lost it. He was still alive, did he not think of that? "Others have lost more than a hand. Do you think that matters to them, that they may give a shit about you?  _About that hand?_ "

"I  _was_  that hand." He repeated.

Eliana closed her eyes, and climbed to her feet. She moved to his side of the fire and sat herself down again. " _I've_  lost more than your hand; my father, my grandfather - the trust of my family and you sit there and  _whine_  about how bitterly unfair your life has been... it may have escaped your notice, but in case you didn't know that's one of life's faults;  _it isn't fair_." She paused briefly, seeing him watching, wanting her to continue with her speech, to tell him that he must go on. "But you accept that and get on with it anyway."

Jaime still felt as though she was avoiding the true reason behind it. "You don't under -" He tried but failed because she was soon talking over him.

"I do." Eliana let out. "You've been spoon fed all your life as was I but when something goes wrong, you turn to one conclusion; you give up. Instead of giving up, you need to  _man up_ because at this rate you won't make it to King's Landing alive." She told him slowly, wanting the words to sink in so he would know that he had to stay alive. " _But guess what?_  You're not going to die, you're not going to whine and you're not going to give up - that way you'll survive."

"How do you know?"

She shrugged and sighed. "I'm a Stark and I'm not dead yet, so I must be doing something right." She picked up the bread left for him and offered it to him. Without another word, she watched as Jaime slowly took the bread from her and began to eat it. She still felt obligated to carry on talking to him, she wanting to bring up the fact that he stopped her rape. She needed to. "I know what you did for me."

He didn't look at her.

"I know you told Hoat that your father would offer a fair price for me alive but even I know once we arrive at Harrenhal, I will be sent back to my brother and then he will deal with me in a way he deems suitable for my treason." He stopped eating the bread, and she smiled at him. "Thank you for stopping them, I owe you my life and I want  _you_ to know that I would gladly give my life for yours."

Seeing his hand still hanging around his neck, she moved to pull it away - she was sick of seeing it and she was certain he was sick of being reminding of it. He left hand caught hers and she saw the anger in his eyes. "Let me take it away..." She told him, pulling it over his head and rising to her feet.

"Where are you going?" Jaime called after her.

Eliana looked at him and sighed. "To give Hoat a present." She saw the anger flee from his eyes and he understood. As she walked away, she pressed a hand against her side and winced, she pulled it away and stared seeing her hand stained with blood.

* * *

He awoken in the night to be told of two murders, and treason from within his own banners.  _Now_ , instead of asleep Robb was stood, staring down at the bodies of Martyn and Willem Lannister. Next to him was Talisa, tears fell from her eyes and she looked at the boys, the same boys she'd seen to earlier and made sure they were good of health. "Bring them in." Robb ordered Brynden, staring hard with clenched fists. Slowly, Rickard Karstark and four others were led into the room and made to stand in line before Robb. "Is that all of them? It took five of you to murder two unarmed squires?" Robb questioned, his gaze solely on Rickard.

"Not murder, Your Grace." He denied easily before correcting him. "Vengeance."

Robb scoffed, " _Vengeance?_ " He repeated breathlessly. "Those boys didn't kill your sons. I saw Harrion die on the battlefield and Torrhen..."

Karstark cut him off, "Was strangled by the Kingslayer. They were his kin."

"They were boys!" Robb exclaimed, wanting him to know what he'd done, wanting him to know he'd murdered to innocent boys. "Look at them."

"Tell your mother to look at them. She killed them as much as I." Karstark replied, his eyes on Catelyn as she refused to look at the boys lying still on the floor. He wanted her to know that this was as much her fault as his.

"My mother had nothing to do with this. This was your treason."

Karstark growled, "It's treason to free your enemies. In war, you kill your enemies. Did your father not teach you that,  _boy_?" Angered, Brynden punched him as an attempt to silence him before he did anymore damage.

"Leave him." Robb ordered, slightly impressed that the Blackfish could knock the gaunt man to his feet with one blow.

"Aye. Leave me to the king. He wants to give me a scolding before he sets me free." Karstark told Brynden spitefully, slowly rising to his feet again. "That's how he deals with treason. Our King in the North. Or should I call him the  _King Who Lost the North_?" Karstark taunted carefully, staring deadly at Robb, wanting him to bite.

Robb looked to Brynden. "Escort Lord Karstark to the dungeon. Hang the rest." He spoke loud enough for him to hear before he heard shouting erupt.

"Mercy, sire!" One called. "I didn't kill anyone. I only watched for the guards."

"This one was only the watcher. Hang him last so he can watch the others die." Robb commanded and then turning away, not caring in the slightest if he didn't do anything; he was still involved and so he would die as well.

"Please! Please, no. They made me do it! They made me!  _They made me!_ "

Once they were taken from the room, Edmure turned to Robb. "Word of this can't leave Riverrun. They were Tywin Lannister's nephews, the Lannisters pay their debts. They never stop talking about it." Edmure said, knowing this wouldn't end well now that the two boys were gone.

Robb looked to Edmure. "Would you make me a liar as well as a murderer?"

"It wouldn't be lying." Edmure tried to convince him. "We will bury them and remain silent until the war is done."

"I'm not fighting for justice if I don't serve justice to murderers in my ranks, no matter how highborn." Robb paused, seeing his mother stand. "He has to die..."

Catelyn moved forward, walking to Talisa's side. "The Karstarks are Northmen. They won't forgive the killing of their lord." She warned her son, wanting him to know of the consequences that would come if he did so.

"It's what Lia would do if she were here." Robb said, catching Catelyn off guard.

Talisa sighed, "Your mother's right. If you do this, the Karstarks will abandon you." She also warned Robb.

"You tended to their wounds. You brought them supper." Robb told his wife, knowing she'd taking a liking to those boys. "Now they're dead."

She pressed her hands against the table, willing him to listen to what she had to say. "And more boys will keep dying until this war is over. You need Karstark men to end it." Talisa spoke forcefully.

"Spare his life. Keep him as a hostage." Catelyn added, Edmure nodding beside her.

"A hostage." Edmure repeated and then continued to speak. "Tell the Karstarks that as long as they remain loyal, he will not be harmed."

Robb sat in silence for a few moments, thinking over his options and finally he spoke. "Mother, you will write to Doran Martell... we're going to need their forces to replace the Karstarks if they do desert us." He looked up at her, finally issuing her with what he knew he would need.

She nodded and immediately went in search for a piece of parchment and ink.

* * *

They were forced down on their knees, they were still bound, weak and hungry.

Eliana sat quietly, watching as Roose Bolton strode over, his eye trained on Jaime having not recognised her yet. "Lord Bolton, I give you the Kingslayer." She watched as Hoat kicked him forward into the mud lapping the ground.

Bolton didn't look at all impressed by his actions, "Pick him up, Hoat." He ordered, watching as Jaime was pulled to his feet and supported. "You've lost a hand." He noted, seeing the stump.

Hoat laughed at that, "No, my lord..." He turned to one of his men and grasped the rotten limb, and put it back over his head to dangle. "Here it is."

Still not impressed, Bolton moved forward and removed the hand. "Take this away." He passed it to Hoat, not sparing the limb another glance or Hoat for that matter.

Hoat tilted his head, confused. "Send it to his father?" He suggested, liking the sound of his own idea.

"You'll hold your tongue unless you want to lose it." Bolton warned, his eyes finally falling on Eliana. "Cut her free. Apologies, my lady. You're under my protection now..." He helped Eliana to her feet but paused when he saw her properly. "What happened to your face?" Bolton's eyes widened when he caught sight of the irritated cut that started at her eye and disappeared below her ripped tunic. He watched as Eliana looked to Hoat, and he gritted his teeth. "Find suitable rooms for our guests. We'll speak later." Bolton concluded, turning away and moving to walk off. "Hoat!"

But Jaime interrupted him. "Lord Bolton." Bolton turned back to face him. "Is there word from the capital?" He asked, wanting to know if anything had happened since he'd been gone.

"You haven't heard?" Bolton frowned, staring blankly at Jaime. "Stannis Baratheon laid siege to King's Landing, sailed into Blackwater Bay. Stormed the gates with thousands of men. And your sister... how can I put this?" He paused, walking towards him and Eliana looked to Jaime and saw he was hanging on every word. "Your sister... is alive and well. Your father's forces prevailed." Upon hearing his words, Jaime collapsed to the floor in pain. "Ser Jaime isn't well. Take him to Qyburn."

Jaime was taken to Qyburn. Qyburn was tall, slightly stooped with crinkled blue eyes. He had grey hair, a lean frame and looked friendly enough as Jaime sat down opposite him, giving him his stump to examine. As he pulled away the bandage, some flesh fell with it and blood leaked.

Jaime couldn't bear to look at it, her averted his gaze. "Will I die?" He murmured, ready for the worse.

"No. The corruption has spread. I fear it must be cut away." Qyburn told him, looking at the wound from different angles, to make sure he was correct. "The safest course would be to take the whole arm off."

"Then you'll die." Jaime threatened weakly, he frowned when he saw no chain. "You're no maester... where's your chain?"

Qyburn sighed and smiled a small smile. "The Citadel stripped me of it. They found some of my experiments too bold." He answered, not seeming that bothered by the question and reached for a pair of tweezers. "I can leave your upper arm, make the cut at your elbow."

Angered by Qyburn's words, Jaime's left hand shot to his throat and squeezed. "I don't need my right hand to kill you." His breath was laboured from the pain but he was certain he could kill this man if he wanted. Slowly, however, Jaime let his neck free.

Qyburn frowned, thinking of others ways he could treat him. "...I can take away the rotting flesh and try to burn out the corruption with boiling wine." He suggested warily, not wanting his hand at his throat again.

"Mmm."

"With any luck, that will suffice." Qyburn told him, reaching for a small vial. "You'll need milk of the poppy."

"No milk of the poppy." Jaime declined, he w _asn't_ that weak to need the aid of that crap to take away the pain.

Qyburn narrowed his eyes at Jaime, slightly worried by him choosing to not want the pain to be taken away. "There will be pain." He reminded carefully and slowly but Jaime still shook his head.

"I'll scream."

"Quite a bit of pain." Qyburn corrected himself.

Jaime nodded, staring at him. "I'll scream loudly."

Qyburn sighed and reached for the leather strap and securely wrapped it around Jaime's arm and went to move to the tweezers to his stump but Jaime pulled it away, clearly worried that something would go round. They stared at each other and he slowly let Qyburn guide his arm forward again. Jaime kept his eyes shut and he waited for the pain to come. He didn't want to scream and show weak he was, but as Qyburn started to fiddle with his rotten flesh, he let go.

And scream he did.

* * *

He stumbled away from Qyburn, feeling as though the man might as well have removed his entire arm. He couldn't even begin comprehend to describe the pain he was feeling, the endless aching feeling clashing with the odd sensation that his hand was missing. He didn't feel the same, let alone Jaime Lannister. He wasn't himself anymore...

Jaime shuffled through the courtyard, wanting to find his room and...  _and go and die, perhaps?_ He thought to himself, pausing in his walking when he spied Bolton and Eliana speaking. He noticed that she'd grown hauntingly pale for someone of the North.

Bolton clasped his hands together, "My lady there is news from the North, and I think you should hear it." His voice was low, as to not draw attention to himself. "Your brother sent my bastard to Winterfell, aiming to reclaim it from the Iron born..." Bolton started but didn't finish as she grabbed his flayed jerkin, pulling tightly on the fabric.

Eliana was trying her best to keep calm but with the pain coming from her shoulder she knew she wouldn't be able to for very long. "If you're planning to say something, spit it out." She growled, not ready for games or japes.

Bolton easily pried her hand off of his jerkin and sighed. "I truly am sorry, my lady but by the time my bastard got to Winterfell, the Iron born were gone and your brothers..." He paused, watching her silently. Secretly, he was waiting to see her fall apart, to see her give up all hope of winning the war and realise the obvious - that they would never win.

She stepped away from him, shaking her head. "No. No... this is some cruel jape." She denied, not wanting to believe what he was telling her or insinuating that had happened; she wouldn't hear of it!

"I wish it were..." Bolton agreed, looking to the ground before looking to meet her eyes. "Bran and Rickon have not been found."

It was all she needed to hear to send her to her knees. Not her brothers - first her father, then her grandfather and now Bran and Rickon?  _Bran... and Rickon,_ she could feel the tears gathering in her eyes, stinging as they fell down her cheeks.  _They were innocent..._ she lent over into the mud, losing all strength and all reason to fight for what she believed in.

Another burning sensation rocketed through, Eliana clutched her side and rolled onto her side, not caring if she coated herself in mud. She knew it was beyond the point of being act risk to infection because it was angrily red and causing her agonizing pain. It appeared that being told that her brothers were most likely dead while feeling as though she were dying herself, only made her worse.

Bolton caught Jaime's eye, he hesitated but decided to help Eliana before something  _did_ go wrong. "You're not well..." He laid a hand on her stomach, slowly pressing down and allowing his sadistic side to emerge for a split second before he ripped her tunic open to see blood staining the bandage wrapped tightly around her torso. "Qyburn needs to see you."

"What happened?"

Bolton looked up, surprised to see how fast the Kingslayer could move despite his injury. "The wound has re-opened, it needs to be rid of the infection - it needs to be poulticed with neetles..." They both lifted her carefully, making sure to not push the wound and cause her more pain. Together, they managed to quickly make it Qyburn's room with a barely conscious Eliana.

Jaime kicked the rusty door open, "Qyburn!" He exclaimed as he and Bolton pulled her through the door.

Seeing that something was wrong straight away, Qyburn cleared his bed that had his supplies lying all over it. "Over here, bring her over here." He instructed them frantically, watching as she sunk into the bed.

Bolton looked at Jaime, "You'll have to stay with her, I have to be somewhere." And with that, Bolton was gone.

"Jaime!" Qyburn called over to him, drawing his attention quickly. "Help me..."

Nodding, Jaime ran over to the bed in the room and allowed Qyburn to instruct him further.

As her head rested in his lap, he resisted all urge to look away as Qyburn poked at the fresh slashes on her shoulder, cutting right through the flesh and down near to the bone. "I'm going to need to sterilize the wound with boiling wine."

Jaime looked up at him in shock, "The wound is open, it'll kill her!" He accused the man with a harsh tone. "You have to poultice it with nettles before you burn it."

Qyburn sighed, "She'll die if I don't see to it properly. First, I will used boiled wine, then I will sow up the wound and after I will apply the poultice. I can assure you, I know what I'm doing." He answered, reaching for pot of wine and placed it over the burning fire which sat crackling beside them. He held it over the fire for a couple of minutes, watching it sizzle as it got hotter. He turned back to face Jaime, "You'll need to hold her, and stop her from passing out." He instructed.

He couldn't help but stare when he saw the jagged line that stretched from her eyebrow down to the beginning of her thigh. Hoat had marked her for life, suitors would no longer line up for her, not now. It was when the smell of burning flesh filled his nose that he finally looked away, struggling to keep himself from vomiting. He blinked and glanced down to see Eliana wincing as Qyburn burned the infection but she was too weak to even use the strength to scream or shout in pain.

But Jaime saw when she finally gave in and went to her place where she could escape for once, and he was thankful.

* * *

Eliana grinned, watching as Rickon concentrated, his tongue squished between his lips. It was strange how amusing it was to watch her brother try to remember the aspects of the Faith of the Seven.  _"I thought you said Maester Luwin taught you them today?"_  She teased, watching his let out a deep huff of annoyance.

The six-year-old jumped up in defeat.  _"I knew them this morning!"_  He complained, disappointed that he'd already forgotten.

She laughed and nodded,  _"I can tell you them again, Rickon if you would like me to? Do you want me to?"_  She reasoned with him, knowing that would be hard for him to agree to because he was that stubborn.

Rickon shook his head, folding his arms over his chest.

 _"The Father, representing judgment. We pray to him for justice."_  She started.

Rickon looked her way and his eyes widened.  _"No... don't tell me the rest!"_  He shouted, before insisting that he did know.  _"I know them, I know I do!"_

Eliana sighed,  _"The Mother?"_

Furrowing his brow, Rickon looked down as he thought.

Smiling still, Eliana could tell he was struggling and decided to help him.  _"I'll make you a deal, yes?"_  She looked at him and he nodded.  _"We shall finish them together."_  She gestured for her brother to come and sit next to her on the bench.

Rickon climbed up and sighed, he picked at the map lain across the wood.

 _"The Mother..."_  Eliana begun, watching him.  _"She represents motherhood and nurturing."_

 _"She's prayed to for compassion."_  Rickon added.

She nodded,  _"Or fertility... who come's next?"_

Rickon grinned,  _"The Warrior!"_  He drove his fists into the air, clearly showing he remembered this one probably because it was his favourite of the Seven.  _"He represents strength in battle - father says he prayed to him for courage and victory during King Robert's rebellion."_

 _"He did."_ Eliana agreed, remembering the tale.  _"Do you know who's after?"_

Rickon shook his head.

 _"Next come's the maiden, she represents innocence. She's normally prayed to to protect a maiden's virtue."_  She laughed when Rickon pulled a face at that.  _"It's clear why you don't remember, next?"_

 _"The Smith?"_  He guessed, smiling when she nodded.  _"He represents crafts and labour... prayed to for work that needs to be done, for strength?"_

Eliana smiled again,  _"Next is the Crone... what does she represent?"_

Rickon sighed, rubbing his head as if to make him remember.  _"Cleverness!"_  He asserted, looking eager suddenly.

 _"Wisom and she is prayed to for guidance."_  Eliana told him slowly.

 _"The Stranger comes last!"_  Rickon added soon after,  _"That one is to do with death and the unknown."_

 _"Good."_  Eliana confirmed,  _"Now, every time you see The Seven-Pointed Star, you'll remember them."_  Her eyes fell to the map and she smiled to herself this time.  _"Baratheon... words and seat."_

Rickon's face fell, a deep frown appeared.  _"Do I have to do all of them, they're boring."_

_"Words and seat, go."_

* * *

She felt a tug on her hand.  _"And what of me?"_ Eliana looked to Bran, who was watching her with uncertainty in his blue eyes. She could tell he wanted to know what she was going to say to him, the eagerness in his stance and the hopeful look on his face.

His brown hair was falling into his eyes, his bright blue eyes while she reached forward to brush it away so he could see, _"I want to see how well my little marksmen is coming along."_  She told him with a warm smile.

Bran's face dropped at her words. He couldn't hit the target; he couldn't even notch the arrow properly. _"I- I can't."_ Bran stated as he rushed after her as quickly as his legs would let him.

Eliana frowned and turned to look at her brother, _"There's no such word as can't, Bran."_ She reminded, knowing that he was putting himself done because their brother's made fun of him.

They soon approached the training yard and Bran mentally cringed when he saw her pick up the bow and an arrow that were sat in their stands waiting to be used. _"Bran,"_ Eliana sighed deeply, as the arrow was notched into the bow's string easily. _"A skill like this requires practice and patience..."_ She sent him a small smile.

 _"I know."_ Bran rolled his eyes as he waited. He turned his attention to the target in front of them while his sister raised the bow slowly. The string, along with the arrow, was drawn back to where her ear sat under her hair and before Bran knew it, the arrow was gone.

It was already sat in the centre of the target before he even had the chance to blink. That made him even more anxious, the thought of his siblings doing something so simple and he couldn't... it wasn't fair. _"I can't even pull it back properly."_ He grumbled softly.

Eliana swung around to face him again, _"And who told you, you couldn't be a marksmen?" S_ he pulled out another arrow with a frown.

Bran's eyes fell to his feet, _"No one."_  He whispered, ashamed.

 _"Ah, so you don't know if you can shoot an arrow or not…"_ She trailed off, walking over to him and smiling. _"Bran, you've told yourself that you won't be able to do it – so that means that it's only you who is preventing your own progress."_

Bran felt embarrassed at that point, he could feel the faint rosy blush rising in his cheeks and Eliana smiled even more.

 _"Now, sweet boy..."_ Eliana knelt down to his height and handed him the bow and arrow. _"Stand side face and hold the bow right – think of it as part of your arm…"_ Bran lifted his arm up slowly, shaking slightly however, it was straight and held the bow in place well.

 _"Good, then pull the string back all the way to your ear,"_ She watched as the string stretched but Bran looked strained and uncomfortable. _"Relax your arm; you have no need to tense it."_ She reminded him and his stance looked better as soon as his arm changed. She frowned when she saw him holding, _"Never hold."_

Bran looked to her, _"W- what?"_

_"Never, never, never hold."_

Bran lowered the bow, _"I need to aim."_ He argued, frowning deeper.

 _"Your eye knows... no, regain your stance."_ Bran positioned himself once more. She checked him once over again and nodded, _"Fire."_

Bran panicked and looked over to her, _"But I need to concentrate."_ He protested with her again, feeling his concentration slipping.

 _"Fire."_ She repeated with a smile on her face.

Nodding in defeat, Bran let the string go and the arrow went spitting through the air. He was afraid he would miss the target and all his sister's help would go to waste on him. But he was wrong.

The arrow hit the target.

 _"I hit it…"_ Bran muttered in bewilderment as surprise rocketed through his small form. _"I hit it!"_

 _"I told you."_ Eliana rose to her feet and went to retrieve his arrow from the target. _"You need to believe in yourself Bran, you point the bow and the arrow will go wherever you want it to."_

Bran had a warm smile on his face now, finally knowing that he could do it properly if he tried. He felt strong, so strong. He felt invincible and brave like Robb and Jon... he felt equal and happy.

 _"Keep practicing; you'll get better if you do."_ Eliana stated, planting a kiss on his head of hair, sighing and ruffling it. _"Do you want to go riding until the feast?"_

Bran nodded eagerly, rushing with her to the stables and forgetting all about the skill of archery, losing himself in his own laughter.

* * *

Tears fell from her eyes as his laughter rung through her ears, "Bran... Rickon..." Jaime heard her murmur under her breath, once her cries of pain finally subsided. He swallowed hard and looked up at Qyburn for help, wanting to know there was something to be done.

"I have no supplies to help with the pain now..." The man trailed off, watching as the woman muttered to herself. "She needs to rest."

Jaime's eyes flew to him. "Surely you have milk of the poppy?" Jaime asked, outraged that she would have to stay in pain.

Qyburn looked at him.

" _Help her_."

He sighed, "You want to help her?" Jaime nodded and Qyburn smiled. "Then stay with her."

And he did just that.


	20. By What Right?

Jaime was gone once she was asleep, not wanting to have to explain the situation when she would awake. But when she did wake, Eliana couldn't move her side - there was no pain just a numb feeling. She knew she had not been given milk of the poppy which she was grateful for, she hated the stuff.

Suddenly, she remembered that Bran and Rickon were dead, that her father was dead and her grandfather. It all came flooding back to her in the few moments she had regained consciousness. All the hurt and pain came flooding back to her and she realised she was back in the real world, where pain existed to ruin the lives of those alive and living in pain.

She felt dirty, and she felt unworthy. She'd allowed a few men to get the better of her rather than face them head on and defeat them, show them who's top dog but instead she fell like a dummy. She looked at her hand and saw the muck that was smeared everywhere, she decided she must've fell into mud before she passed out, though she didn't remember doing so.

Slowly, Eliana sat up, knocking the nettle poultice to the floor and looked around the smokey room to see no one there. She was alone again. She couldn't remember what had happened, though she looked down at her stomach and saw the neat stitches lying there and the redness of her skin which she could only assume had been burned with boiling wine to clear the infection.

She recalled being carried by two men and she could remember Qyburn's face peering in front of her. She remembered shouting but then it all went blank but she did know one thing.

She needed a bath.

* * *

Jaime shook his head, the droplets of rain landing on his shoulders. He was absolutely drenched - but it was exhilarating. His muscles ached, his arms throbbed, but all he wanted a large horn of ale and a soak in the bathhouse.

He pointed at his squire and told him his wishes, undoing the laces of his doublet as he approached the doors to the bathhouse, steam having warped the wood over the years. He threw it open and walked inside, a quick glance around the pools revealing he was alone. He exhaled gruffly and went inside one of the small alcoves, relieved no one was going to see his stump. He unlaced the doublet the rest of the way, letting it fall to his feet and then he tugged the wet undershirt over his head. He stepped out of his boots and as his hands went to the laces of his breeches, he heard splashing, looking behind him.

A form was in one of the pools, but was obscured by steam. Jaime could make out a head falling back onto the ledge in relaxation, an arm propped next to it. He turned back to his task. He had never been one to be shy, but he was aware of his puckered and chapped arm. He shrugged, tugging his breeches off and sighed with relief. He turned around, and headed for one of the pools, aware of the other bather.

Jaime paused when he saw her, the water lapping her breasts while the steam dispersed into the air gracefully. He could see the angry redness around her eyes and he knew she'd been crying. It was when her eyes met his that his heart broke, she looked so helpless and broken. "Your stitches."

Eliana shrugged, sparing her shoulder a glance. "I don't care." She let her head rest against the stone ledge. "What are you doing here?" Her voice cracked, unable to keep its usual consistency.

He watched as she observed while he slowly made it to the bath she was sat in. He saw how her eyes narrowed when he moved to climb in, he was surprised that she didn't appear bothered by his nudity. He smiled when he saw her wrap an arm around her legs, amused he chose to tease her. "Don't worry, I won't bite..." She didn't laugh, he sighed. "If I faint, pull me out. I don't intend to be the first Lannister to die in a bath tub."

What Eliana said next Jaime did not expect. "Why _should_  I care how you die?" It was bitter, yet, he knew she probably didn't mean it to come out that way.

"You swore a solemn vow, remember?" Jaime reminded her gently, exhaling as the warm water enveloped his aching muscles. Wetting his head, he let his neck fall back onto the edge, willing his shaky legs to relax. "You are supposed to get me to King's Landing in one piece... not going so well, is it?" He joked softly, but unfortunately for him, Eliana took it the wrong way and rushed to her feet furiously, starting forward and looking at Jaime offended.

"You think I asked for this to happen.. that I  _prayed_  for Hoat to come along and maim you, maim me?"

Jaime let his eyes flow over her naked body, secretly pleased with what he saw... all the curves in the right places, a woman's body. He was surprised by her sudden outburst and although he didn't do anything wrong, he apologised. "That was unworthy, forgive me. You've protected me better than most..."

Eliana clenched her fists again, gritting her teeth. "Don't you mock me." She growled dangerously.

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I'm apologising. Calling a truce if you will." Jaime explained to her, wanting her to know he truly didn't mean any harm towards her.

"You need trust to have a truce." She told him.

Jaime looked up at her again. "I trust you." He promised, watching her sit back down against the ledge of the bath, glancing at him with a look he was all too familiar with. "There it is. There's the look. I've seen it for seventeen years on face after face. You all despise me.  _Kingslayer. Oathbreaker. A man without honor..._ " He paused, staring at her, watching her face change slowly. He looked to his stump when she looked away from him. "You've heard of wildfire?"

Eliana nodded. "Of course."

Jaime looked down to the water when she didn't look back at him. "The Mad King was obsessed with it. He loved to watch people burn, the way their skin blackened and blistered and melted off their bones. He burned lords he didn't like. He burned Hands who disobeyed him. He burned anyone who was against him. Before long, half the country was against him..." He trailed off, remembering the Mad King hatefully. "Aerys saw traitors everywhere, so he had his pyromancer place caches of wildfire all over the city." She looked at him then and he knew he had her full attention. "Beneath the Sept of Baelor and the slums of Flea Bottom, under houses, stables, taverns.  _Even_  beneath the Red Keep itself."

Eliana didn't know what to make of all he was saying, he was confessing to her - this was his confession, but why was he telling it to her? Though, thanks to him, for once that day she'd forgotten all her worries; she didn't have the strength to worry but as Jaime spoke it felt as though he was sharing her weight, lifting her burden from her shoulders and for that she was grateful.

He saw the way she was looking at him now, he saw the curiosity lurking in her gaze and he knew he had to continue. "Finally, the day of reckoning came. Robert Baratheon marched on the capital after his victory at the Trident, but my father arrived first with the whole Lannister army at his back, promising to defend the city against the rebels." Jaime took a deep breath, the heat slowly getting to him as he spoke. " _I knew my father better than that_... he's never been one to pick the losing side. I told the Mad King as much, I urged him to surrender peacefully - but the king didn't listen to me, he didn't listen to Varys who tried to warn him.  _But_  he did listen to Grand Maester Pycelle, that grey sunken cunt.  _You can trust the Lannisters,_  he said  _The Lannisters have always been true friends of the crown_." Jaime explained, his own bitterness seeping through his words for her to hear.

Eliana didn't dare interrupt Jaime as he re-told his tale for her, not because she didn't know what to say - it was because she knew he needed to rid himself of his  _own_ burden.

"So we opened the gates and my father sacked the city. Once again, I came to the king, begging him to surrender..." His pause was longer than before, he hesitated, wondering if he could go on and somehow Jaime did. "He told me to bring him my father's head and then he turned to his pyromancer.  _Burn them all,_  he said  _burn them in their homes. Burn them in their beds_... tell me, if your precious Oberyn commanded you to kill your  _own_  father and stand by while thousands of men, women, and children burned alive, would you have done it? Would you  _have_  kept your oath then?" Jaime uttered hoarsley, glowering at her slightly and Eliana did not answer.

Satisfied that she was listening to him properly, hearing his own story of how he became who he was - hoping it would haunt her. "First, I killed the pyromancer. And then, then when the king turned to flee, I drove my sword into his back.  _Burn them all_ , he kept saying,  _b_ _urn them all_. I don't think he expected to die. He... he meant to... burn with the rest of us and rise again, reborn as a dragon to turn his enemies to ash. I slit his throat to make sure that didn't happen." He sucked in a deep breath, leaning his head against the stone ledge, tired. "That's where Ned Stark found me,  _your father_."

Eliana sat forward, worried for Jaime when he closed his eyes and he breathing became ragged. "If this is true... why didn't you tell anyone? Why didn't you tell my father?" She questioned quietly, her brow furrowing as she watched him.

" _Stark?_ " He repeated bitterly, "You think the  _honorable_  Ned Stark wanted to hear my side? He judged me guilty the moment he set eyes on me. By what right does the wolf judge the lion?  _By what right?_ " Eliana realised what was about to happen mere seconds before Jaime lurched forward.

Her instincts kicked in and she reached out to catch him before he could slip under the water, completely forgetting about her left side. "We need help! The Kingslayer -" Her voice caught in her throat. She'd called him  _Kingslayer_ , never since their meeting had she called him by that name...  _never_. There was no sound from outside, no sign that the guards were coming to them.

"Jaime…" His voice was so low that she had to strain to hear him. "My name is Jaime."

His head lolled back in her arms and his eyes slid shut. A year spent in chains had worn him down to barely nothing and she was able to support his weight easily, shifting to keep his ruined arm from becoming submerged. The fear that went through her at the thought of him dying was sudden and unexpected. She could not allow him to die, not after everything. Not after what she had learned today... of what her father had not told her when he returned home from Robert's rebellion.

 _Jaime_. Not the Kingslayer, not the Oathbreaker. Just a man who had done what he had to, to protect his city and his people.

"Ser Jaime needs help!" She called out again, louder this time. Her voice echoed off the walls of the bathhouse and died away, leaving only silence. No one was coming. The 'Ser' had slipped in unknowingly but it felt right, she didn't care about the oaths he may have broken, his actions that day were that of a true knight.

"They will not come," Jaime muttered softly. Eliana looked down to see that his eyes were open again and he seemed more alert. "There is no need, I will just sit for a while. If you'd help me..."

"You need to be taken to Qyburn," She insisted. Hearing Jaime say that he needed help of any sort, not least to move only a couple of feet back in the tub, was proof enough of that. "I will go find the guards and make them bring him to you. There is no way I will let you die."  _Not now._

"Bolton wouldn't let me die. I'm too valuable a hostage and he knows it. _But the rest of his men?_  I'm certain they would gladly watch me drown in this water than bother helping me."

Eliana could not deny the truth in his words. She had seen the loathing in the eyes of the men at Harrenhal, though they were not so open with their hatred as Hoat had been, but she didn't doubt that any one of them would be more than happy to remove Jaime's remaining hand or his even head.

She maneuvered him carefully back to the ledge that ran around the inside of the stone bath. Jaime was still weak, almost a dead weight in Eliana's arms, but the water's buoyancy helped her carry him back. She placed him on the seat, ensuring that his right arm was arranged along the top edge of the tub to keep it from falling into the water. His head rested back on the lip of the tub and he closed his eyes again.

She stared down at him for a moment. His face was still caked in dirt and blood, and other filth. He made no move to clean himself, he seemed to have exerted all of his energy and now he was laid slumped against the side of the tub.

Eliana thought about retreating to her side of the tub and sinking back into the water but she couldn't leave him there so she moved away just a little. Jaime didn't stir. She could see the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest and she figured he was nearly asleep. She would watch him to make sure that he didn't slide into the water again, she decided. Falling asleep in the bath and drowning would hardly be dignified.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Jaime dozed lightly and Eliana watched him, letting her body gradually relax back into the steaming water. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the scrubbing brush waiting to be used - a bar of rough soap was sitting nearby. She knew Jaime would need it, the grime of the past months had seeped into his skin and mere water was not much use against it.

She wasn't sure what compelled her to do it. Perhaps it was the newfound understanding between them, the tentative beginnings of trust. Perhaps she could no longer bear to see this once noble man brought so low. Or maybe she was just sick of the smell... she didn't know.

Eliana picked up the soap and the brush and stood up. She moved slowly towards Jaime but he did not stir or open his eyes. She didn't care if he saw her nakedness anyway, he had had his fill earlier by staring at her or at least acting interested. They were beyond false modesties now.

She knelt beside him on the ledge, the water brushing up under her breasts. She dampened the brush and ran the soap over the bristles, working up a light lather. Jaime's eyes stayed closed, but she could tell he was awake and aware of her presence next to him.

She started with his face. Gently, she moved the brush over his cheeks and worked the soap into his matted beard to rid him of the blood and dirt. With her other hand, she scooped up some water and rinsed him off, watching the dirt and blood run down his neck and into the bathtub. It took more soap and a few rinses to get it all off, but eventually his beard was soft again and she could see the colour of his skin that had been almost hidden by dirt.

Jaime kept his eyes tightly closed and didn't speak as Eliana shifted him wordlessly sideways on the seat and tipped his head back. She began massaging the soap into his hair, running her fingers carefully through the tangles and behind his ears, making sure to flake away the dried bits of dirt when she heard him moan softly. She took that as a good sign and slowly leant him backwards into the water. With one hand she supported him, and with the other she combed the dirt and soap free from his hair until finally she could see the gold in his hair again.

Absently, Eliana continued to brush through his hair, enjoying the feeling of the soft strands between her fingers. She was so engrossed in the action that she failed to realise that his eyes had opened and he was staring up at her, watching her. She flushed, but he didn't say anything. She couldn't read his expression, his eyes were guarded, but he didn't seem upset and she let herself relax again. It felt strange, to be this comfortable in his presence and in such a situation, it was so strange.

After a few more minutes, she moved him back around to lean against the side of the tub. Jaime's eyes remained open now, and they tracked her movements as she took up the brush and soap bar again. She worked quickly and efficiently, moving the brush over Jaime's neck and shoulder then pouring water to rinse him off. She didn't let herself think too hard on what she was doing and now she could feel his eyes on her, seeing her nakedness as she touched his bare skin. It made her shiver, though she did not quite know why.

Eliana moved further down, working the brush over Jaime's pectorals and cleaning the dirt from the hair on his chest. Her hand brushed accidentally against his nipple and he sucked in a sharp breath. She froze. His nipples were tight and red now, where before they had been soft, and she was surprised to realise that hers had tightened as well. She swallowed. Jaime didn't move, but she could see his chest rising and falling faster than it had been before.

Deciding to take the safer route, Eliana moved to his left arm. She kept her movements impersonal and detached now, lifting his hand to scrub between his fingers and then placing it back into the water. When she was finished, she hesitated and looked at his right arm where it was stretched out along the back of the tub.

"Go ahead." Those were the first words he had spoken in nearly ten minutes. Eliana froze and looked to him, she didn't expect him to allow her to touch the arm let alone clean it. Jaime's eyes regarded her and he gave small nod accompanied with an even smaller smile.

Slowly, mindful of the pain he was no doubt still feeling, Eliana ran the brush down his arm to just above where the bandage began. Obligingly, Jaime lifted his arm and she cleaned the underside of it as well. She cupped some water in her hands and poured it carefully over him, making sure to avoid getting the bandage any wetter than it already was. She avoided looking at the stump as much as she could although, she could see that it was red and swollen with infection, though it seemed better than it had when he'd first lost his hand. She knew he had been treated and given some medicine when they arrived at Harrenhal, which must have begun to help.

Arms done, Eliana was faced with the prospect of finishing his torso. She glanced up and met Jaime's eyes. He looked deadpan, but his eyes were dilated and his mouth had fallen slightly open. She didn't take her eyes off his as she lathered up the brush again and began working it in circles over his chest. There was no mistaking the hitch in his breath this time, or the way his body jerked when she touched it.

Her hands moved farther down, under the water line to his stomach. She continued to hold his gaze, working her way to his hips and around to his back. They were very close now. Her fingers brushed lightly over the cleft of his bottom and he let out a groan. Eliana couldn't help herself. She glanced down for the first time since they had begun this, allowing herself to look where she had intentionally been avoiding.

His manhood stood out thick and hard from between his legs. Eliana had seen men naked before in camp, she'd seen Oberyn Martell as naked as his name day and Jaime's nakedness did not bother her. However, she felt a tightness growing between her own legs. She had only ever felt this way with Oberyn, and she never imagined feeling this way with any other male.

Jaime sensed something was wrong. "Look at me, Lia." She raised her head and turned her gaze on him again. Jaime smiled at her, looking at her beautiful cyan eyes. "Thank you... thank you for saving my life... I never thanked you."

"And you don't need to thank me for anything, Jaime."

She tensed when he ran a hand over her scar that fell across the left side of her face and then disappeared into the water. She took that scar for him, if not, his best guess he would have been dead if she didn't. "Then do me one favour... one thing." He whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "That's all I ask."

Eliana narrowed her eyes at him, placing the brush down on the side. "What?"

Jaime's stump dropped to her waist as he smiled again, he felt like a fool for asking this of all things. "Kiss me." He realised that she could react in any way possible, but it was something he'd wanted for a long time.

And then suddenly, hesitantly, somehow she was kissing him. Her lips were warm and uncertain but her eyes were closed. He was shocked to the point of being motionless, eyes still open and blinking in surprise, and then she pulled back and just like that it was over, the enchantment broken. But then he laughed, a real laugh this time, and knotted the fingers of his good hand in her hair and kissed her properly, his stump tight on the small of her back, drenched as it entered the water.

The smell of her, the taste of her was everywhere.

And when at last they broke apart and she looked at him, breath coming in gasps and eyes sparkling, Jaime took a strong hold of her hand with his good one and hauled her up with him. He picked up one of the woolen blankets and draped it over her shoulders, one over his own and then he quickly led her out of the bath house.


	21. Cold Comfort

Jaime eased himself down onto the rug beside her, and for a time they both stared at the crackling, spitting flame without speaking. He wanted to kiss her, he dreaded doing something to force her guard back up again just as she'd begun to let him in. He was also very wary of taking advantage of her, though to look at her she was the least like of wenches -  _women_  to have a man do anything that could be construed as taking advantage of her. But beneath her appearance and guard she had carefully fortified, Jaime recognised Eliana's fragility. He'd enjoyed their kiss, her cleaning him but he couldn't push her into something just because he wanted it.

Another surge of wind rippled through Harrenhal, gusting through the gaps in the window and rattling the flame. Jaime rubbed his right arm in a futile attempt to generate and restore the warmth to his body to stave off the chill. Eliana loosened her white-knuckled grip on the blanket and moved closer to him, ushering him into the cocoon of warmth she'd created. Jaime was grateful, not only because she let him in from the cold but because she wasn't shutting him out. At least not yet.

With tentative confidence, Jaime laid his good arm around her shoulders, and then when she didn't shrug it off, he slid his palm down to the small of her back. She was so odd to touch for a woman, hard panes of muscle and knots of tension. Eliana leaned into the touch, turning her head towards him and rested her cheek on his shoulder. Self-assured, he tilted her chin up with his ruined limb and captured her lips in another kiss. She responded, at first hesitantly parting her lips under the curious flicker of his tongue, but soon meeting it with her own. She placed a hand on his nape, entwining her fingers in his hair and tugging ever so slightly, keeping him from breaking away from which Jaime let out a small moan of approval.

"Gods, how I wished you'd let me kiss you sooner." Jaime murmured between kisses, the tips of his fingers rubbing slow caresses under the blanket at the base of her spine. Eliana responded just as he'd hoped she would - shivering deliciously against him and kissing him more urgently. Her other hand thrusted its way through his hair now as well and Jaime ached with lust. She laid down and pulled Jaime down with her so that they were pressed fully against one another. It was then she noticed his erection - hard to ignore when it was standing proud and pressing into her hip. She tensed and he felt it, pulling away to check to see if she had changed her mind, whether she had come to her senses. He saw guilt and desire chiseled in her features and he figured she was thinking of her mother and of Oberyn.

"Lia?" He whispered, his voice low and rough. He was so seldom lost for words, but his mind faltered and he couldn't think of anything to say at that moment. She dropped her gaze, unable to meet those eyes of his, and pulled away from him. It was painful to not pull her back to him, so strong was the need and want that rushed through him. She stood and turned away, crossing the room to stand by the window and look out into the dreary night. He didn't know what internal conflicts she was struggling with; he didn't know the words to sway her back into his arms, nor did he want to charm her - he wanted her to  _want_ him and he wasn't going to beg.

His eyes trailed to her neck, where she was clutching the pendant that sat there. He couldn't see it properly but he knew it was important; it held pride of place. He got the message and stood and went to gather his clothes, turning to leave.

"Jaime, don't." She called, looking to him finally while he sent her a confused look as she moved to the bed. "Don't go," Her voice was quiet as she added. "Stay here tonight."

Jaime shook his head, dropping his clothes and moving towards her. She sat on the far end of the bed, far away from him and he didn't like it. He sat near her, close enough to be able to touch her. He moved her hair aside, noting the gallery of muscles aligned across her shoulders. He had the sudden impulse to kiss her there, wanting to know what her skin felt like against his lips, but for the moment he contented himself in moving his fingers into her shoulders. They relaxed under him, and he rolled them forward, working muscles that were almost always tensed. Jaime smiled to himself, enjoying the moment of Eliana unguarded again. She had started to hum in time shamelessly as his hand became harder and massaged her.

"Jaime", He thought he heard her say, so quiet it was almost inaudible. Drawn in by the smooth skin of her at her muscular shoulders, he pressed his lips to the back of her neck. A gasp left her lips, her eyes almost shut. His hand and stump were on her arms, and he pulled her tight against him. He kissed her again on the neck below her earlobe, letting his lips touch her skin ever so slightly.

Eliana shivered, feeling his hot breath on her.

"Cold, little wolf?" He asked, waiting for a typical response from their banter. When it did not come and he felt her still breathing heavily, he turned her around to face him. Her hands went to his chest, lightly touching the golden hairs there. Her eyes which had been half-open, widened looking over his handsome face. He swore he saw a small smile.

"I thought we agreed to not use that nickname." With that she took his face, pulling his lips against hers. His were mannishly rough, but hers were soft and he remembered although she was unbelievably tough, she was still a woman, sighing in his arms.

Jaime returned her kiss passionately, and bit her lips playfully until she opened and let his warm tongue explore hers. An odd feeling spread through Eliana like ink on new linen, coursing through her whole body. She heard a moan in the back of her throat, and she couldn't get enough of his lips, his body- she was scared to believe the moment was a dream, or a cruel trick or the bliss that comes before one died. But she was reassured when she felt his muscular arms wrap around her, pulling her into him. They both sat where they were, and his mouth left hers to nip at her ear and collarbone, roughly exploring her.

His lips trailed down to her soft, model breasts which had hardened with anticipation and hardened even more as she felt his lips wrap around them, sucking them. He lightly bit at them, and she heard a louder moan leave her throat. Jaime laughed a bit at that, and she didn't care- he could have his jape, as long as his mouth did not stop. The strange feeling was moving into her abdomen, a strange nervousness that she had not felt since she said goodbye to Oberyn in Dorne but Jaime was not Oberyn. This was Jaime Lannister, the Lion... Oberyn was the Viper.

He returned to her lips, her nails sinking into his shoulders, her ankle snaking around his, sliding nicely. He moved her back to the headboard of the bed, pressing her on it and parting her thighs. They broke apart, both chests heaving with exasperated desire. She moved her hands down his chest, leaning forward to bite his nipples and he groaned. They put their foreheads together as he moved in between her legs, pulling her up.

Jaime's desire was hot on her thigh, but he did not rush her, no matter how badly he wanted to. She had to be ready- it had to be  _her_  choice. "You should not feel obligated. This -" He waved vaguely downwards. "- is simply a physical reaction... and I can't help it."

For a moment, Eliana was reminded of her Septa but she quickly banished the thought. "But you want me to... and what if I wish to?" It was bold, bolder than she had expected herself to say. But it was true. She had never desired a man other than Oberyn, and even that was a distant sort of longing after she left Dorne.

Her response seemed to take Jaime by surprise. His eyes widened and then narrowed. He wrapped his left arm around her and drew her closer until she was atop him. She touched his shoulder, trailing her hand up his neck and leaned forward until their foreheads were touching once more.

"Do you?" His voice was rough and she could feel his breath on her lips. "Could you truly desire this broken, maimed body?"

"If you can desire this ugly one," She whispered back.

Jaime's arm tightened around her. "Do not call yourself that," He growled, growing suddenly protective and then his lips were pressing against hers. She swallowed back the urge to snap back, but instead kissed him back.

Jaime kissed like he did everything else: intense, thorough, and passionate. But he was also surprisingly gentle, his lips moved slowly against hers, letting her set the pace and not pushing her to deepen the kiss. Eliana growled against his lips. She was tired of gentle, and she knew now that she wanted this. She pushed her tongue into his mouth and ran a hand down his chest.

"Jaime…" She murmured, her voice quavering.

"So that's what it takes to get you to say my name, that and nearly drowning." Jaime stated plainly, as she watched him smile at her. He sealed his lips around hers, and closed his arms around her and again his eyes met hers.

With all his control, he went slowly, first pushing into her. He didn't look upon her face until he was all the way inside, her muscles agonizingly tight around him. He looked at her face which was trained on him in return. His left hand stroked her ruined cheek and then he kissed her lips and she gradually responded, breathing in deep. He did not move his hips, until he felt her relax slightly around him, then slipped out and went back in, controlling his urges to make sure she was at least, if not enjoying it, comfortable. He looked at her face again, refusing to look anywhere else.

She felt him thrusting slowly in and out and she concentrated on the feeling of him inside her, completing her. He kissed her lips, allowing her to relax. His right arm pulled her close and his left one snaked between them, circling her nub slowly, in time with his deep thrusts. Her arms circled around his neck and she kissed him, moving her hips against his, wanting him to go deeper and deeper.

They met eyes; her blue orbs almost the colour of melting snow and his the deepest green she had ever seen. She was the one gasping now, unashamedly thrusting against him, and he removed his hand and replaced it with his strong stomach, stroking her faster and harder with each thrust. He was practically holding her up, just the smallest part of her touching the bed.

Jaime and she were both panting, wilfully thrusting so that Eliana gripped his shoulder blades and held herself up as he moved into her again and again. His face was buried in her neck and his right arm had circled around her back again to hold her tight to him. She helped as best she could, her thighs straining as she pushed down to meet his thrusts. Her senses felt heightened and warmth was spreading through her body. She closed her eyes and threaded her fingers through his hair.

The chamber was silent other than the sounds of their bodies moving together, that and the gentle crackles and hisses from the hearth. Jaime's movements grew more frantic, and his hips jerked up as he drove himself into her. Eliana doubted he would last much longer, and she could feel herself getting close again. Soon she felt herself clenching around Jaime and she was still against him as she came. He wasn't far behind, and with a final thrust he spilled himself into her.

They didn't move for a few minutes. Eliana could feel Jaime softening within her, but he didn't pull out. His breath ghosted over her neck and she briefly laid her head on his shoulder. It felt almost more intimate than the sex itself, to sit like that together without speaking. Eliana knew it couldn't last, that it was just a temporary moment of shared pleasure and solace in the midst of the pain and war that surrounded them. Jaime would return to King's Landing and to his sister. Eliana... well, she wasn't sure yet. But she knew this would not happen again, that there could never be any kind of future with this man even if she wanted it.

Eventually Jaime shifted and slipped out of her, leaving her feeling strangely empty. She lifted her head off of his shoulder and he raised his eyes to meet hers. Then he smiled, the first time she had ever seen him smile without a hint of mocking behind it. He reached up to brush some hair out of her eyes and she stayed still, staring at him as he leaned forward and kissed her lightly.

Unexpected hope rose up within Eliana. She didn't know what she really wanted from this man, or what was going to happen next but they were in this together now. For now, she would enjoy the companionship and try not to worry, at least for a few minutes, about what the next days would hold.

The oil lamp had burnt away while they were wrapped in one another, the low flicker of the dying fire was all that was illuminating the chamber. Jaime had curled his good arm around her waist and drew her to him. Her shoulder was the closest part of her body to his lips, and so he began peppering it with soft, gentle kisses. His reward was feeling her relax into him. She took his hand in hers, holding it to her chest, between her breasts, and he could feel the strong rhythm of her heartbeat. He breathed in her scent, unsure he would ever get to be this close to her again.

His fingers closed around her pendant as he inspected it. Upon it shone a leaping trout, the sigil of house Tully, her mother's house. "She gave it to me for my twelfth name day." She smiled sadly at the memory. He knew she was grieving for the loss of her brothers and chose to not interrupt. "She said it would protect me as would she... not everyone can keep their promises."

Jaime pressed his lips to her forehead. He watched her for a time, listening to the gentle sounds of her breathing and the patter of rain against the window panes. He watched her until the fire died and then only the moonlight illuminated her face, painting her skin silver. Eliana eventually fell asleep in his arms, and Jaime was glad she'd found some piece in all this... and he was happy he was the cause of it.


	22. Oathkeeper

Rain pelted him as he stood there, being strangely reminded of a cold day in Winterfell. Robb stood watching as Rickard Karstark was led to the block and forced to stand in the swamp that had gathered below. He approached him soundly, feeling the eyes of his mother and wife on him as he stopped at the gaunt man.

"The blood of the First Men flows through my veins as much as yours,  _boy_." Karstark looked to Robb with his chin held high, determined to not let Robb get the better of him. "I fought the Mad King for your father. I fought Joffrey for you. We are kin... Stark and Karstark." He informed, wanting him to know he was making the wrong decision and it would reflect poorly in the future.

"That didn't stop you from betraying me. And it won't save you now."

Karstark sighed, "I don't want it to save me. I want it to haunt you to the end of your days." He re-phrased, knowing it would get to him deep down.

Robb gritted his teeth. "Kneel, my lord." Watching him, Karstark dropped his knees and lent over the brick wall. "Rickard Karstark, Lord of Karhold, here in sight of gods and men, I sentence you to die." Robb paused, struggling to control himself. "Would you speak a final word?"

"Kill me and be cursed." Karstark declared, so Robb would know that in his eyes, he'd lost this war of his and he'd never be his King. "You are no king of mine."

Robb took a strong hold of the hilt of his sword and pulled it over his shoulder, he paused for a second to gather him before bringing the blade down against the man's thick neck and taking his head off with one clean stroke. Angered, he threw the sword to the ground, clenching his fists and then stormed off into the castle.

* * *

Jaime slowly traced smalls circles across her thigh with his left hand, smiling as her head rested upon his chest, her hand sitting above where his heart should be. His green eyes were heavy upon her. She stirred when the short hairs of his beard tickled her ear, and then Jaime knew she was awake. "Are you still mad at me?" He asked, his lips ghosting over her temple.

"I'm finding myself always mad at you." Eliana spoke, her hand trailed to his neck although in truth, she knew what he meant but she had no desire to argue with him and instead hoped her light, dismissive remarks would be enough to quiet him. "You'll have to be more specific, unless you're referring to this." However, when his forehead turned to rest lightly against her hair, she knew he wouldn't drop it so easily. "I had orders and I defiled them by allowing you do bed me... a Lannister."

" _Careful_. You're lying with a Lannister still." His tone lacked any hint of threat, but she almost wished it had because that was at least familiar to her. She could handle violence better than truth; she'd crawled into bed with a Lannister, a man belonging to a family that had caused her own family nothing but grief.

In hopes of letting it go, Eliana turned her head, nudging his chin with her forehead. She allowed herself to feel his hard chest against her own, to acknowledge the firm hold he had on her, how tightly he held her against his side. "Let's not speak of this," She spoke with a soft sigh.

"To the journey ahead then." He added.

Nodding, Eliana shut her eyes and laid her head back under his chin, wanting nothing more than to just forget everything that had occurred and go back to leading a perfectly normal life in the North with her family, and marry Oberyn Martell like she was meant to. "Eliana?" His constant need of attention reminded her of a child, and much like a child, she knew that ignoring him would only make him harder to bear. But then the feel of a calloused finger tracing a path across her thigh made her stop and her blue eyes opened to find the scar that had drawn his interest.

"Tell me of what happened... please."

She shrugged, "Hoat used the carving knife."

"That's it?"

"Did you want the tale?"

He smiled lightly, dipping in close to her to place a slow kiss on her temple. "Well, if you're offering, little wolf." His rough voice and hot breath sent a little shiver down her spine. Lately she's found herself noticing the way heat pools in her lower stomach after her encounters with Jaime, and at times even lower still especially during last night, and now while he was pressed against her.

She cleared her throat, trying to ignore his closeness now. "Once you were out cold, I thought Hoat might be tempted to take something else..." She paused, not wanting him to know she held a soft spot for him. "They forgot to tie me to the tree and I poured the broth of him and he, you know... did what he did." The last part came out in a mutter, she didn't wish to tell it to him and she didn't tell him to full story and wished not to... save her own humiliation

"And this one right here on your arm?" Jaime slowly traced the curved white line, "How did you come by this?"

Eliana looked at Jaime, waiting for him to come to his senses about hearing some stupid story from her childhood. When he said nothing, she knew she had little choice but to carry on. "A Wilding in the Wolfswood - he'd grabbed Robb... and Jon was good with his sword but not  _that_  good. I shot him with an arrow, but there were more - two more. I didn't have anymore arrows, not enough for the both of them. Robb and Jon had climbed a sentinel tree for safety, shouting abuse at the Wildlings... I remember fighting them well, but my father saved us in the end."

Despite how she tried, Eliana couldn't conjure up an image of her father anymore.  _Was this normal?_  She found herself asking frequently.  _Have I already forgotten him?_ For a moment, Eliana considered asking Jaime if he could remember his mother, but thought better of it and chose not to.

Eliana watched as Jaime took her hand into his own - his palm folding over the back of hers - their fingers intertwining. His touch was firm, and she could only bring herself to return it lightly. She wasn't accustomed to this.

"I'm sorry." Jaime winced, knowing it must be hard for her. "I didn't think it would bring up such painful memories. I should have asked something different... your first kiss would have been better."

She smiled, "Are we playing a game of questions now, ser?" She asked, looking up at him with her brow raised.

"Well, it would pass the time seeing as though I have no intention of leaving this bed and if you're offering to share, well…"

"Only on the condition that I get to ask you a question in return."

He hesitated only briefly. "Alright, your terms seem fair enough."

Eliana hummed thoughtfully, returning her head to the comfort of Jaime's shoulder. It had been a long time since she recalled that rainy afternoon at Riverrun, alone in the stables with Thomos. She'd always been intrigued by Thomos, his hair dark and smile lopsided didn't make her heart soften but she was drawn to him. At the time, she thought it was sweet with her leaving for Dorne a couple of hours later that day.

"Thomos Bracken, he did so when my mother and father had taken us down to Riverrun to visit my grandfather - don't look like that." She frowned at him when she saw his shocked face. "You don't want to hear about the time Greyjoy did." Eliana laughed lightly, "I don't think he realised how hard I could hit but he didn't do it again."

Jaime tightened his arm around her, pulling her closer to him. His thumb traced hers rhythmically, he kissed her gently at her temple once more, and for a moment Eliana entertained the absurd idea that Jaime may be feeling some discomfort as she spoke of a man she once felt for.

"Was I better than Martell?" He asked.

"Well..." She begun, sighing. She looked at him and laughed when she saw the disappointed look plastered on his features. "There must be something special about the two of you, considering you're both the only one's who've managed to charm me into bed."

Jaime smiled stupidly at the achievement and rested his head against the headboard sat behind them.

Still smiling, Eliana lowered and shook her head for a moment, then laid it against his shoulder. "So tell me of yours then."

"My first kiss? There's nothing really to tell. There was a girl at the Rock, and we kissed. There you have it."

Eliana poked his chest, "I've told you two stories now. I think you owe me some detail."

"Her name was... something? I was ten years of age, do you really expect me to remember some name of a girl I kissed?" He chuckled.

"Was she beautiful?"

"Beautiful enough."

Eliana frowned when Jaime didn't offer anymore and she also knew that Jaime was lying, and she hated being lied to. But he had a tell, a twitch in his right arm, she found herself imagining his sword hand had always been ready when someone came too close to guessing what occurred between him and his sister. "Jaime," She begun, hesitant. "You know you can tell it true."

"I don't -"

"Cersei," Eliana said. "I know. Not all of it, of course, but enough to understand."

He said nothing to her and stilled. Not even the touch of her hand on his right arm moved him.  _You've done it now_ , she thought to herself. Rarely had they discussed the topic of his twin, and certainly not so in this manner.

"I didn't lie about the girl," He explained, yet he sounded distant from her. "She was part of it, one of Cersei's friends at the Rock. She'd wanted to kiss me. Her mistake was telling my sister about it... we've always been possessive of each other, Cersei and I, more so as children but when Cersei discovered the girl's feelings, our closeness suddenly changed to something more."

Eliana watched Jaime as he spoke, listening to his words as he described his past.

"One day not long after the girl had confided in Cersei, she fell down a couple flights of steps, never to walk again. Apparently the hem of her gown was long enough to trip her. Cersei and I had kissed later that day... in a way we never had before. I had never wanted anyone the way I wanted her."

The memory must've stirred something inside Jaime, he stiffened against her. Eliana found herself wishing she had asked Jaime any question but that one, a memory she had known would be shared with Cersei. Eliana hadn't thought that it would bother her; she understood the nature of Jaime and Cersei's relationship and knew she could never compare to his twin. Not even when Jaime held her as they slept had Eliana been troubled by the truth of Jaime's feelings. But now, an uneasiness crept into her.

"Part of me will always want Cersei," Jaime recovered quickly, his tone firm and honest. "I love her. She is my twin, and I've never known life without her. But that doesn't mean we're good for each other... because if I'm honest, we bring out the worst in one another." He whispered, his breath tickling the nape of her neck.

For a long while he said nothing, and Eliana wondered whether he truly wanted to sleep. If the Warrior would bless her with more courage, she may have chosen to speak, yet she found herself lacking the courage, and considering her changed faith she had no need to pray to the Seven for help or guidance, they'd never brought her any before.

"I've never been…  _intimate_  with a woman before," Jaime muttered low enough for her to hear.

She shifted, lying on her back so she could stare at the canopy. "But your sister... you shared a womb with her. You've been lovers for years, you fathered her  _children_." Eliana stated, confused by his words.

"That's not the same though, is it?" Jaime smiled softly. "Yes, I've done those things but I've never held her... not like this."

One night curled next to a woman could surely not compare to bedding the Light of the West, but her and Jaime had slept together as well... she was also considered the Beauty of the North which was the equivalent to Cersei's title. Eliana had had only one close relationship, Oberyn, but she didn't think Jaime and her could eclipse a great love from this, it wasn't practical let alone possible. But Oberyn was different when compared with Jaime; their relationship had been easy and carefree, with Jaime it would be dangerous and hard - near impossible.

"I'm not very experienced in this," Jaime admitted quietly, sounding all of a sudden ashamed.

" _This?_ "

He took her hand into his. "You and I, whatever this is that is happening between us."

Eliana forced herself to look him in the eye, her breathing slowed. For all the taunts he gave her on the road, she saw no teasing in his statement now, despite how she might yearn for it in that moment. The prospect of Jaime having feelings for her left fear creeping through her belly, she wasn't certain she could face any change between them.

"Nothing is -"

Rolling atop her, Jaime silenced her with a kiss, deep and unlike any he had given her before. His weight was attainable and welcoming, pressing down on her in a way that had her fighting instincts urging her to push him off. Those instincts easily gave way when her lips moved easily over his, her eyes closing. His bare chest, with wisps of golden hair, rubbed against hers. The ends of his hair brushed against her fingertips, and her fingers moved almost of their own accord to the nape of his neck. He sighed contently at the feel of her short nails on his scalp. His voice - the sound  _she_  produced in him - the subtle shift of his knee against her inner thigh made her gasp, her mouth open to him.

But suddenly Jaime stopped altogether, as quickly as he had begun. As he drew back to look her in the eyes, Eliana's heart sped up. Mourning the loss of his mouth on hers, she considered kissing him. She had her honor, but she just might find it expendable for the sake of the feel of his lips on hers.

"What was that?" She breathed, her breathing unsteady.

"I wanted to kiss you." Jaime said, smiling. His expression quickly turned uncertain. "I don't know how to handle this delicately, Lia. I'm not good with things like this."

She laughed. "Nor am I."

He touched her hair gently, pushing it out of her eyes, his green eyes fixed on her. Jaime leant down to capture her lips once more, without urgency unlike before. His touch was light and tender, just enough to renew her briefly set aside want. When he pulled away, he moved to lie on his side, his right arm lain across her stomach.

This marked a turn in their friendship, she felt the same ease with him as she had in the camp.

"Jaime?"

"Hmm?" He mumbled, sleep having taken him more quickly than her.

"Promise me,  _promise me_  that you will return my sister to us."

Jaime opened his eyes, looking at Eliana tiredly, registering her request slowly. "Of course, we both vowed to your mother that no matter what happened Sansa and Arya would be returned to her... if you can't,  _I will_." He promised, his lips resting against her nape.

"I'm cold..."

He pulled her to him snuggly, his legs tangling with hers, his mouth kissing the back of her neck. They had never slept like that - like lovers. She sighed, when they would leave Harrenhal, they would no longer be able to embrace like this; he would be South and she would be North.

"Better?" Jaime murmured, holding her tighter.

She nodded. "Yes, thank you."

Before he fell back to sleep - it never took him long on most occasions - she felt him stir once more and tuck the furs more tightly against her. His eagerness to fulfill her request even when half asleep brought a small smile to her lips.

* * *

Later that evening what Robb had feared worse, had come true. He stood watching the table, trying to see if he could figure out something that would help their cause in some way but there was nothing; he was helpless and trapped, surrounded by the enemy.

"Come to bed." Talisa called to him.

"You were right." Robb growled, picking up the pieces and throwing them across the room in anger. "The Karstarks are gone, almost half our forces. Tywin Lannister knows what he needs to do to make us unravel.  _Nothing_. Only wait." Robb spat in disgust, knowing they needed to think of something before everything fell apart.

Talisa stared at her husband, not knowing what to do. "Don't let him."

"What can I do? Attack King's Landing?" Robb asked himself, sighing deeply, looking as though he'd almost given up. "There's nothing he'd like better. He'd crush us in a day."

Talisa leant against the table, looking at the map before her. "We could ride north." She suggested, innocently, clearly showing how naïve she was to the idea of war. "Take your land back from the Greyjoys, wait out the winter?"

"Winter could last five years." Robb pointed out the obvious as she walked to his side. "Once my bannermen are home again, sitting by the fire, surrounded by their families, warm and safe, they'll never ride south again." He closed his eyes, rubbing his head as if to make something appear so they could win this. "When I gathered my lords together, we had a purpose,  _a mission_. Now we're like a band of bickering children."

Talisa watched him. "Give them a  _new_  purpose." She took a strong hold of his arm, leaning against him.

"What?"

Talisa let out a breathless laugh, stuck. "Oh, I don't know... I don't even know where Winterfell is." She admitted, feeling slightly ashamed for her poor knowledge concerning Westeros.

Robb smiled and took a hold of her hand, directing her. "Here," She saw a castle drawn on the map. "And we're here. King's Landing..." Robb trailed off, his eyes stilled and he didn't speak. He dropped her hand and moved around the table.

Talisa frowned as her eyes followed him. "What is it?" She pressed worriedly.

Robb narrowed his eyes, studying the map. "I can't force them to meet us in the field and I can't attack them where they're strongest, but I can attack them where they're not... and Casterly Rock can't run away." He took a Lion piece into his hand and held it tightly, willing himself to crush the wood. "I'm going to take their home away from them." Robb concluded, now determined to follow it through.

"Can you do it?"

Robb moved around the table again, unable to stay still. "I need men to replace the Karstarks who marched home. There is only one person in this kingdom with that kind of army who hasn't already sided with the Lannisters, the man whose daughter I was supposed to marry..." Robb met her eyes, and he sighed. "Walder Frey."

* * *

Time was running out on their time together; Jaime would soon part after dinner with Lord Bolton and they would never see each other again. She was walking down the hall when she stumbled upon Jaime, looking rather shaken and struggling to get his stump through the loop in his sling. Soundlessly, she stepped towards him and took the stump in her hand, guiding it carefully and slowly through the loop.

"My lady,"

She met his gaze for a brief moment, smiling as his hair fell into his eyes. She reached forward and tucked it behind his ears and smiled even more when he offered her his good arm. They walked in silence to the dining hall that Lord Bolton awaited them in and when they arrived, Eliana's smile had disappeared.

Eliana sat forward, trying not to watch as Jaime struggled to cut his meat with his left hand. It was hard for her to not assist him but instead she conversed with Bolton who didn't appear to like her attire she'd chosen to wear for their dinner. "I was told my men had found you something appropriate to wear, yet, I see you've reclined to wearing silken tunics and breeches.  _How odd_." He told her, frowning.

"I am an oddity." Eliana agreed. "I prefer to choose what I wear, rather than a man considering I am the one who will be wearing it." She paused, looking to Jaime who was still struggling. "I'm practical is all, we lived in a camp together Roose, it should be hardly anything from odd – you can't wear a dress on a battlefield, and what is the point of wearing one in a camp or a place such as this?"

"It's more appropriate."

"Take one step outside and it's ruined. See;  _practical_." She frowned, staring at him and trying to figure the man out. "You're a Stark bannerman, Roose. I am acting on my mother's orders to return Jaime Lannister to King's Landing."

"When your brother left Harrenhal, your mother was his prisoner... if she wasn't his mother, he'd have hanged her for treason."

Jaime struggled one-handedly to cut his meat, his plate wobbling noisly as he did. Eliana stabbed the slice of meat on his plate, only half from her irritation, the other being tired of seeing him fail. When he should have felt humiliation, he was striving through with confidence almost, meeting his own mockery with mockery. But she supposed it was a defence mechanism against all the hate he'd recieved the past seventeen years.

"I should send you back to Robb Stark." Bolton said.

"You should." Jaime agreed, finally managing to cut his meat into edible pieces, he stabbed a piece with his fork and studied it carefully. "But instead, you're sitting here watching me fail at dinner. Why might that be?" Jaime narrowed his eyes at him.

He shrugged and said the obvious. "Wars cost money… many people would pay a great deal for you."

"We both know who would pay the most…" Jaime replied easily enough, almost lazily. "Or make you pay the most if he found out you had captured me and sent me back up north for a summary execution."

"You're right." Bolton nodded and pushed his elbows against the table. "Perhaps the safest thing to do is to kill you both and burn your bodies."

Eliana's fingers curled around her knife, hearing only the threat in his words. Almost immediately, Jaime's hand covered hers and squeezed gently, discouraging her form reaching across the table and sliting Bolton's throat with it. She could not follow how their conversation had turned to this, but she recognised that Bolton was asking a favour of Jaime and her hate for him only grew.  _Turncloak... bloody turncloak_ , she almost said as her anger awoke. He called it treason that she followed her mother's oders yet he was willing to draw back his men and flee.

"It would be, if you honestly believed my father would never find out about it." He spoke while his thumb swam in small circles over her knuckles, calming her slowly.

"King Robb is keeping your father quite busy, he doesn't have time for anything else."

"He'll make time for you." Jaime vowed, staring him directly in the eyes.

"As soon as you're well enough to travel, I will allow you to go to King's Landing as restitution for the mistakes my soldiers made." Bolton conceded, offering an easy negotiation for them, using careful, thought out words. "And you will swear to tell your father the truth, that I had nothing to do with your maiming."

Jaime poured her wine first, and then his own, wanting to toast to their jounrey ahead. She was surprised when Bolton corrected Jaime, telling him that she would not be accompanying him any further. She knew what Bolton had in store for her, she knew he would take her to her brother to answer for her treason but she couldn't help question it.

She sat forward in her chair, intrigued on how that had occurred through his mind. "Where did you get that idea from? I have every intention of going to -"

Bolton sighed, "You are charged with abetting treason by your brother, and treason against the crown." Bolton interrupted her scornfully. "Unless you  _really_  want to lose your head, I suggest you stop and think."

Jaime didn't like the idea of leaving her here alone with Bolton at all. "I'm afraid I must insist." He tried, not wanting to give up and let him win. He couldn't leave her there while he continued South, he couldn't.

Bolton smiled manically, "You're in no place to insist on anything. I would have hoped you'd learned your lesson about overplaying your…  _position_." Bolton's refusal was firm and unmoving, the atmosphere turning cold.

Not knowing what to do, Jaime sighed and laid his hand atop of Eliana's again and fell quiet, not knowing what else to say of the matter. She wouldn't be going with him to King's Landing and he probably wouldn't see her again. So, he stood from his chair and offered Eliana his arm, to escort him back to her chambers.

Once they were down the hallway and out of Bolton's earshot, Eliana wrenched her arm free and and paused in the hall, her fists clenched tightly, her knuckles flooding white. For a moment, Jaime thought she was going to punch him. Out of reflex, Jaime ducked and moved out of her line of view all together but it wasn't him she was aiming for. The wall was her target.

Her anger was fuelling her as she repeatedly landed hee fist against the wall. There were a few cruches and cracks but they were all ignored as Eliana continued to punch her way into the wall, not having done so since she was fifteen.

Shocking by her outburst, Jaime freaked. "Eliana, stop! Speak to me!" Jaime was near yelling as she pounded the wall with her fist. He was helpless, subjected to just stand and watch as she shattered her hand so easily.

"I  _knew_  it was coming, why should it bother me?" A single traitorous tear ran down her ruined cheek. Then the anger returned and so did her punching, followed by cracks and sharp breathes that escaped her lips, attempting to disguise the pain. "Bantis zōbrie issa se ossȳngnoti lēdys."

Jaime's brow deepened when she spoke in a foreign language, he wasn't even sure if she knew she'd spoken in what he'd guessed had been High Valyrian. He didn't even know she could speak the language, let alone have any idea what she's said.

Soon she paused in her rage, her hand aching painfully from the unfriendly impact of the wall, and the sight of her crimson blood splattered across her reddening skin did little to relieve the anger that had engulfed her.

Jaime took her hand and held it in his own. "Look at me, Eliana." Her name upon his lips, just her name, tenderly spoken, forced her to finally look upon his face. He smiled, his hand still on her arm traced small circles against the sensitive skin on the inside of her wrist though, and some of her anger. Slowly, his hand trailed up her arm and ghosted over her neck to cup her cheek gently. He felt confidence surge through him even as she fiercely held his gaze.

She hated being made so vulnerable, and Jaime had done so, so effortlessly with his little touches and smiles. Eliana would not be made to feel the lamb before the lion,  _she would not_. Jaime tilted his head slightly, and his mouth slowly inched closer to hers, so close that she could feel his breath on her lips. Before she could question his actions, his lips were on her's, firm yet gentle. Eliana let out a rush of air as they briefly parted; Jaime continued his assault on her mouth, his lips caressing her's ever softly. Eliana became lost in the motion of his lips, the sensation of him sucking lightly on her lower lip - his fingers digging into her back the more they continued to kiss.

Eventually they separated Eliana and Jaime both breathing heavily, their foreheads resting against each other. Eliana's hands were resting on Jaime's chest; she slid them up - caressing his neck as she went, stopping to rest them on either side of his face, fingers stroking his prickly beard.

She pulled back a little further. Jaime's eyes were filled with desire and sadness. Eliana tilted her head, her brows drawn in inquisition. "You know you mustn't do that again..." She breathed quietly, her fingers leaving his face to rest lightly on his shoulders.

"Are you going to stop me?" Jaime pressed himself into her again and captured her lips again.


	23. Supply and Demand

"Thank you for riding here so quickly - I know travel isn't easy in these times." Robb spoke, leaning forward on the table as Lothar and Black Rivers sat before him quietly.

Black Rivers nodded, briefly glancing around the large hall he'd been seated in. "The roads are crawling with cutthroats and bandits. But when the King of the North summons us,  _we come_." His tone was almost patronising to hear, insulting perhaps.

"Our father has instructed us to tell you that his alliance with the North can continue if his terms are met..." Lothar paused, holding Robb's gaze. "Lord Frey requires a formal apology for your violation of your sacred oath to marry one of his daughters."

"Of course." Robb nodded, in complete understanding of his terms. "He deserves as much. I was in the wrong." He apologised solemnly.

Black Rivers glanced at his brother before continuing. "As restitution for this betrayal, he demands Harrenhal and all its attendant lands." He added.

Edmure scoffed at the request, "I don't think that's -"

"We are fighting for the North." Robb chastised his uncle, sick of his meddling. "Harrenhal is not in the North." He corrected Edmure, turning back to Lothar and Black Rivers. "It is his once the war is over and we have no further strategic need for it." He promised.

"And there's something else."

Robb clasped his hands together, showing he was quite welcome for them to continue. "We will do whatever we can to give Lord Frey what he needs." He vowed, nodding for him to continue.

"Not what,  _whom_." Black Rivers eyes landed on Edmure.

Both Brynden and Robb looked to Edmure to see he had absolutely no idea that he was the one being referred to as the match. "What?" He asked, taking a sip of his ale. Edmure then saw that not only Robb and his uncle were looking in his direction but the two Frey's as well, he chuckled. "Err, no."

Lothar sighed, "Our father requires Lord Edmure to wed one of his daughters... Roslin." He told Robb, his eyes still glued to Edmure.

"How old is she?" Edmure pressed.

"19."

Edmure gritted his teeth, "Could I see her first?"

"You want to count her teeth?" Black Rivers growled, his gaze turning into a dark glare. "We depart for the Twins in the morning. We need an answer before we leave and a wedding not more than a fortnight thereafter or this alliance is at an end." He informed dryly, shifting in his seat uncomfortably.

Brynden frowned, "Your father does realise we're in the middle of a war?"

Lothar looked to Brynden. "Father is old... it will put his heart at peace if he could see her wed to a good husband." He said, his eyes shifting back to Edmure.

"And his recent experience has made him wary of long engagements." Black Rivers reminded, knowing that it would make Robb heed their wishes.

Robb slowly looked up, "He has every right to be. Please excuse us while we discuss it." He commanded, watching as the two men rose and slowly, and dramatically left the hall.

"Why should I let that old ferret choose my bride for me?" Edmure spoke, demanding to know why he should do such a thing as this; throw his life away so he could please some old man. "At the very least, I should be offered the same choice you were. I'm his liege lord." Edmure rose to his feet and began to pace.

"He's a proud man and we've wounded him."

"I didn't wound him." Edmure clarified. "My answer is no."

Fed up of his stupid behaviour and his many mistakes in this war, Brynden rose and stalked over to his nephew. "Listen to me and listen very carefully. You -" Brynden begun but he was cut off.

"The laws of gods and men are very clear... no man can compel another man to marry."

Brynden glowered at him, "The laws of my fist are about to compel your teeth." He threatened, waving his fist.

"It's all right." Robb let out, looking to his mother who sat quietly beside him. "You heard him. If you refuse, our alliance with the Freys is dead."

Edmure turned to face him, "He's wanted me for one of his daughters since I was 12. He's not going stop wanting it now." He said, tring to sound calculated and shrewd. "When I say no, he will come back and offer me a daughter of my choosing."

Catelyn scoffed, turning his way. "You're willing to risk our freedom and our lives for a chance at a prettier wife?"

"I have a war to fight. We can't win it without them. I have no time to haggle." Robb breathed, agitated and wary. "You said you wanted to make amends for the Stone Mill."

"You recall that heroic engagement?" Brynden sneered.

Edmure looked at the three of them watching him and shrugged. "I had something less permanent in mind."

"I've won every battle, but I'm losing this war. If we don't do this and do it now, we're lost."

Knowing that there was no way he could escape or make his on arrangement, he gave in. "I'll marry her." Edmure affirmed, reluctantly.

Robb straightened up, "You're paying for my sins, Uncle. It's not fair or right. I'll remember it." He asserted, turning to face forward and nodding to the guards to bring Lothar and Black Rivers back in.

* * *

He hadn't seen Eliana that morning at breakfast, and she didn't appear at lunch either. By evening, Jaime was willing to admit to himself that he was concerned especially after her stunt she had pulled yesterday from nowhere. He'd heard from Qyburn that her hand was shattered and would take weeks to heal. At dinner, he poked unenthusiastically at his food - stew, which he was certain was mutton and just like his father he hated it, and moldy bread - picking until he could bear no more, he spooned a fresh bowl and pocketed a piece of crusty, moldy bread, intent on giving it to Eliana.

Once he stunbled upon her bedchamber, he knocked, which wasn't easy considering he only had one hand and in that hand he was holding a bowl of stew, but there was no answer. "Eliana?" He called out, but there was still no reply. He waited a few more moments before stepping forward to open the door. "Lia?"

She wasn't there, she was gone.

Jaime's first thoughts were that she'd escaped during the night, but gone where? Then he kicked himself mentally for discovering her absence early, but a maid appeared and quickly set his thoughts straights with the truth.

"The Lady Eliana has been moved to different quarts, milord." She informed him, courteously before continuing with the mopping of the hall.

He brows furrowed, "To where?" He demanded, a little harsher than necessary.

"Lord Bolton orders are that you're both to be kept apart. I'm sorry, milord." She sounded genuinely apologetic upon the matter. Realising that there was no way in finding, Jaime nodded and walked from the room, handing the maid the stew and bread as he went.

It was when she didn't appear the next day at all that he truly began to worry, so when Qyburn came to his chambers he decided to press the matter further.

"We leave for King's Landing at first light, Ser." The old maester told him, as Jaime nodded and the maseter turned to leave.

Without thinking, the words left his mouth before Jaime even knew he was going to say anythng, especially what he had spoken. "Can I say goodbye to her?"

Clearly confused, Qyburn gave him a curious look.

"The Lady Eliana, the woman I came here with," He clarified. "I wish -  _I want_  to see her before I leave."

Qyburn stared at him, considiering whether to allow him to see her for a moment and then he nodded, gesturing for Jaime to follow him quickly. Jaime struggled to keep up with Qyburn as they exited into the courtyard, his face darkened as Qyburn soon led him into the Widow's Tower. Even Jaime knew a place such as that was meant for prisoners and deviants, not guests. He was relieved to know that they hadn't stuffed her down in the dungeons and instead she was locked in a room near the top of the tower. The bricks with blackened and uneven all the way, burned so long ago by fire so hot that it had made the stone run like a melted candlewax.

Qyburn unlocked the door to the chamber with a small brass key and stepped aside, and waited outside as Jaime entered.

The room was cold, lit only by a small hearth whose warmth was whisked away by the winds that roared and ripped their way through the tower. However, when he properly looked at the room he could see it was in a terrible state. He hadn't expected fury. He simply watched as she threw a chair into the fire, and then he knew he couldn't utter  _goodbye_ , it would sound as grim as death.

Her eyes stared at the chair slowly burned, she knew he was behind her. "I thought you were gone." Eliana said, her tone the soft in a way he'd never heard it before. All he wanted to do right then was kiss her.

"Tomorrow..." Jaime replied, looking away to banish the want of kissing her and the guilt, followed by a sharp twist of shame. "Lord Bolton's traveling tomorrow as well. He's going to the Twins for Edmure Tully's wedding."

She nodded, turning to face him slowly. "As am I, the bastard has sent my brother a raven to let them know I'll be travelling with him." She paused, looking at the floor coldly. "So I could be without a head tomorrow evening."

"I owe you a debt." Jaime told her, pushing all his thoughts to the back of his mind, holding his head high. He didn't want to think of her without a head, her without her body, without her beauty.

"When my mother released you, we both made a promise to her." Eliana replied, her voice just as grave. "Now it's your promise. You gave your word. Keep it, and consider the debt paid."

Jaime suddenly felt a gratitude he'd never known. She trusted him, she trusted him to keep his word. It was his first taste of sincere honour since he butchered the Mad King. "I will return the Stark girls to their mother,  _your_ mother. I swear it." He vowed.

"Good-bye, Ser Jaime." She said with finality, that made his chest ache. She held herself with such dignity, with a sudden coherence so breathtaking that he literally didn't comment,  _couldn't comment_ , he knew then that she was the strongest woman he'd ever known.

Jaime sighed heavily and rolled his eyes to the ceiling before finally fixing her with a hard stare. He cleneched his jaw, his left hand in a fist by his side, and finally started to think that maybe, just maybe, he didn't want to leave her there. "Kiss me," He demanded, all earlier guilt and shame gone, as he stared at her. "Just so I'm certain..."

"Why... ?" She asked throatily and saw him swallow hard.

"Because I want you to," Jaime finally said, the realising that didn't really explain his demand at all. He hesitated. "Because I don't think... I can leave without being absolutely certain." He admitted, eyes never leaving hers, weighing her reaction. Eliana put a hand on his cheek before sliding it around to the nape of his neck, hesitantly pulling his smiling mouth to press against her own briefly before pulling away.

She was still staring at him with those astonishing cyan eyes of hers as he gently touched her ruined cheek and ghosted his fingers along her jaw to her lips. Without thinking, he bent down to press a light kiss to her lips. Her little gasp drove him to deepen the kiss as he pulled him to her. He was drowning in her eyes, her lips, and her hands tangled in his hair.

But it was when she pulled away that he truly lost himself. She moved him backward slowly, straightening his cloak as she did. Her hand was upon his cheek, as her eyes watched him. Cautiously, she pressed her lips to his cheek and clenched her jaw. "Goodbye, Ser Jaime." She whispered, stepping back and allowing Qyburn to close to door.

And then she was gone.

* * *

The solar was quiet, the only person in the room was Doran, he was seated at the table, head bent, his eyes scanned the missive of dried ink in front of him. It had arrived late in the night and he'd hardly been to seek any sleep after reading it. The words had played on his mind, and soon he'd given up all chances of finding sleep that night.

_Prince Doran,_

_Prince of Dorne,_

_I write to you now in a time of need as well as on my son's orders - he asks you rally behind us in this time of war to help the cause with making the North independent and free from the wrath of the South. We understand that your family desires revenge for what the Lannisters forced upon your sister, and her children. We will give you this opportunity to do so, if not for us, than for the love you bear my daughter and if not, then for your sister._

_I know this is a lot to ask of you, considering you do not want a hand in this endless war but my family is in terrible danger. All my daughters will be in the claws of the Lannisters before long, I've lost my two boys, Bran and Rickon... I've lost my husband and my father - I cannot lose anyone else. Robb and Eliana are all I have left in this world._

_Please,_

_Lady Catelyn Tully,_

_Lady of Winterfell,_

_Mother of Robb Stark, the King in the North._

He'd re-read the note over and over, examining her choice of words and her plea for help. He knew why Catelyn had asked him, for the love he held for her daughter; he'd grown fond of Eliana during her stay in Dorne and found her very vigorous yet she had a perfectly academic, cerebral mind... she was everything that Doran was drawn to in a person. He also knew she was a fighter; able to wield sword, mace and axe but she was also talented with the polearm, staff and spear - he'd seen from her training in the Water Gardens with his brother Oberyn, who had taken interest immediately. However, he was brought form his thoughts when he heard shouting.

"Dawn!" The door to the Solar swung open and cracked against the wall. In walked Oberyn Martell, radiating anger from his eyes as they shone darkly at Doran from where he stood across the other side of the room. "You've known since dawn that Robb Stark needs us to help him!"

Doran closed his eyes, rubbing his hand over his face. "How did you find out about this Oberyn?" His head slowly lifted and his eyes, those dark eyes that he only shared with his brother. He knew Arianne must've told him, that was the only possible conclusion.

"Arianne informed me when I  _bumped_  into her in the Water Gardens." Oberyn stared at him, "We have to help... justice calls! I'll rally the army."

"No!" Doran let out in a sudden rage. "I will not..." Doran paused, drawing a deep breath, his gaze unwavering but Oberyn saw his sympathy, his regret at having to tell him what neither really wanted to hear. "I will not risk the safety of my own family for the sake of Catelyn Tully's."

Oberyn's face became unreadable, his expression confused and lost. "Doran... please... I love her, you have to understand that." He tried to reason with his brother.

"I am sorry."

An angry, sound passed his lips as he shook his head again. "I will not let you kill her..."

Doran rose, stepping around the table to move closer to him. "Kill..." Doran whispered the word, though he pressed on. "How am I killing her... Oberyn?"

He looked pained, lost between his brother and the woman he'd fallen in love with. "You will not allow me to go and help! If I leave her out there, she will die." His eyes slowly fixed on his, gaze pleading. "Please... Doran, let me do this."

Doran looked as though he was going to refuse but after several long, tense moments he spoke. Doran's expression, however, did not change and Oberyn sensed that whatever he was about to say was not what he wanted to hear. "We can do nothing, Oberyn."

He stared at him, wide eyed and unable to believe what he was hearing. "What?!" He breathed, outraged.

"Oberyn..."

"No!" Oberyn hissed, baring his teeth at his brother, ready to bite. "No, I  _refuse_  to accept that there...that there is nothing we can do! This... this wasn't...this isn't justice, Doran! I want justice for Elia! For Rhaenys and Aegon! It wasn't... it..." Oberyn shook his head and fought down the urge to scream at Doran, to accuse him of siding with the Lannisters. "They murdered her father... just like Elia."

Doran nodded in agreement. "It was an evil deed, Oberyn. I will never deny that, nor will I ever disregard your pain, but, as terrible as it is, I will not allow you to go." His hand fell on his brothers shoulder and squeezed tightly, his fingers digging into the flesh beneath his brocade. "Oberyn, this is a war in which thousands will die... and this is  _not_  our war."

"But this is our war!" Oberyn hadn't meant to scream but it happened and he shook his head again, even as he began to shake, his emotions at war and he had no idea how to calm himself. "This was no honourable death on a battlefield we're talking about! We're talking about the woman I love! This... this will end in murder!"

"Oberyn..."

"They butchered her father!"

"Listen..."

"They will kill her!"

"Listen to me!"

Oberyn fell silent when Doran, who rarely raised his voice, who was always so calm, shouted. Oberyn took a step back, eyes widening, watching as Doran closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath, while clearly trying to regain his composure. When he opened his eyes again, when he finally looked at him, it was not as his brother but as the Prince of Dorne.  _A ruler_. A man who needed him to obey. No matter how they both might truly feel.

"I do not support Joffrey's claim to that ugly throne, I don't support anyone's." He said, voice low and level. "War is full of deception and traitors, they're everywhere. Even within family, it occurs in every war Oberyn, you know that." He drew another deep breath, chin lifting slightly, dark eyes boring into her. "Our sister and her children were in the capital and because of a war, we never saw them again... I don't want to watch you disappear as well. I will not risk a retaliation that could spur Joffrey into inflicting the same fate upon us,  _you_. Nor will I permit any citizen of Dorne to do so. Do you understand, brother?  _You are not to ride North_."

Oberyn ground his teeth together, hating what he was hearing, what was being asked of him, how could he just expect him to carry on as though nothing had happened? Oberyn shook his head and started to say something, to refuse, to demand he do something, anything, but instead he chosen to remain passive and silent.

"I said, do you understand, Oberyn?"

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, teeth grinding together, before he gave a slow nod. "I understand." Before Doran could say anything, could try to placate him, Oberyn turned on his heel and stormed from the solar making certain the doors slammed shut behind him. As he walked down the hall people hurried from his path, none spoke to Oberyn, none tried to ask what was wrong, only a few knew of Catelyn Tully's letter to Doran and no more would hear of it.

As he entered the open courtyard where he had left the girls he tried to gain control of his emotions, for the girls if nothing else, but his worry was like a physical force weighing him down and he knew he couldn't just stay there and do nothing. He had to fight.

Seeing her father pacing, Obara raced to him. "Father, let me come with you." Obara insisted, sounding every bit the serpent that Oberyn referred to her as. "I want to ride North with you, to help Lia and her family."

Obeyrn narrowed his eyes at his daughter, "How do you...  _Arianne._ " He sighed, closing his eyes, allowing his frustration to get the better of him.

"I want to help you."

"Hush, Obara," Oberyn quietly chastised his eldest daughter as he rushed by her, just as Nymeria and Tyene ran to join them. "Now is not the time... I need to go."

But Obara wouldn't listen, she was tired of him not listening to her, to her sisters. They deserved to be heard. "But she's our family, you want to marry her don't you?" It came out a little more bitterly than she hoped.

Oberyn paused, and looked back at her casually. "That is what we both planned, Obara... but if she makes it to King's Landing she'll face the same fate as her father, as your aunt Elia... and we'll never wed." He stated, rubbing his head, conflicted.

Obara watched her father, she may be only fifteen years but she knew pain and grief when she saw it. "Go then, go save her." She urged, not seeing how hard the decision truly was,  _if you love someone, you fight for them..._ "I want to help you, let me help you. Together, we will save her."

"No."

"If you love someone, you fight for them!" Obara exclaimed, standing her ground.

Sighing, Oberyn placed his hand upon her shoulder and smiled. He knew he would not be able to budge her decision to offer him aid. "Ever the Serpent... go and inform Markas and Irraro of our journey, tell them we ride North and tell them to gather a few hundred men." He hesitated, kneeling before her. He knew what would happen if Lia died. "But Obara, if we arrive and it's too late, you mustn't blame yourself..."

Her gaze hardened, "She won't die."

He nodded, planting kisses upon Nymeria and Tyene's hair before moving away. "Go, tell them, and tell no one else... no one else must know."

Obara nodded, smiling excitedly.  _No one must know... tell no one._ And just like that she ran off with her two sisters trailing behind her.

* * *

Robb smiled lovingly as Talisa dried his hair. "That rain will cost us another day." He looked to Brynden, who was swooping for a horn of wine.

"Frey will wait." Edmure said before adding, he was also soaking wet from the storm. "He knows we're coming."

Catelyn rolled his eyes, her grip tightening on the note she held in her hand. "Lord Walder is prickly by nature." She warned, staring at her brother not believing he was truly being so naïve.

" _Prickly?_ " Brynden repeated, his eyes softened as he looked over at Catelyn.  _His little Cat..._  "That what you call it? Might be the least pleasant man I've ever met." He stated, knowing Walder from personal experience.

"Yes, and that is why -" She tried but failed to finish as her uncle spoke again.

"I've seen wet shits I liked better than Walder Frey." Catleyn shot her uncle a look and Brynden looked to Robb and Talisa. "Apologies, Your Grace... spent too many years around lancers and pikemen." Brynden apologised, slightly embarrassed that he'd forgotten his courtesy.

Talisa sighed, "I've spent the last two years nursing wounded men, watching them bleed and die. I'm not afraid of  _wet shits_." She fired right back, impressing Brynden with her reply, who only laugh jubilantly.

"Lord Frey will take this delay as a slight." Catelyn let out, worried for their safety.

"He can take it as he likes. He's getting the wedding he wanted."

Catelyn glowered at her brother, cursing him silently for being so stubborn. "He's getting a wedding... it was a king he wanted." She corrected, her gaze landing on her son.

Robb smiled and nodded, "Edmure is the best match a Frey has had in the history of their house... we should all get some sleep." He spoke, as Brynden and Edmure quickly left the tent but Catelyn stayed. He frowned, seeing her hesitant to leave at his command. "What is it?" Robb probed.

Catelyn handed Robb the note in her hands and closed her eyes. The thing that worried her most, was the unknown. "Roose Bolton sent a raven earlier this evening." She informed him, opening her eyes and watching as he read the contents.

"He has Lia." Robb let go of Talisa and sighed, his eyes scanned the words written. "And what of the Kingslayer? He mentions nothing of him..."

Catelyn sighed, "Has not been found by the looks of it, but Lia's injured... he didn't say how or if it's life threatening." She told him, worried for her daughter especially knowing that she was in Bolton's company, remembering how much she hated the man.

Robb's jaw clenched. "She committed treason." He reminded his mother, thinking she'd forgotten.

Her eyes widened, not understanding was she was hearing, hearing that Robb was  _still_ going to treat his sister in such a way when it wasn't her fault. "She's your  _sister_ , who was acting upon  _my_ orders... I told her what to do,  _me_." She pleaded, not wanting Eliana to be harmed upon her arrival back to them. "The fault is mine."

"You've served your punishment." Robb noted, dully. "I'll discuss her punishment when she arrives on the morrow."

As Catelyn turned to leave the tent, she glanced back and glared at what she saw. Robb and Talisa were engaged in a session of kissing once more, she couldn't believe he'd dismissed his sister just like that, his sister for some foreigner. Family for an exotic love.


	24. Uneven Ride

Eliana simply observed as Bolton tied a heavy pair of manacles to her wrists. If she was truthful with herself, she wasn't at all surprised by his decision to tarnish her already broken pride by truly making her his prisoner. "Not too heavy are they?" He asked as he tightened them to the point where they were almost pinching her skin. "Not too tight?"

"No, they're perfect just the way they are." She ignored the urge to punch him for being so patronising but she knew all too well that that was what Bolton wanted her to do, and she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

He smiled, "Good." He said, offering her a hand as she went to climb on her horse, and being Eliana, she ignored the hand and managed herself. She clasped the reins in her hands and turned the horse. In her eyes, Bolton was a turncloak, Eliana knew there was something up with the man. He was strange and shifty and she definitely didn't trust him, she'd never trust a man who would let Jaime Lannister go as easy at that.

From the other side of the yard, she could feel Jaime staring at her the moment she'd climbed atop her courser but she wouldn't look over at him because if she did something would happen. He wouldn't leave. She wouldn't allow him to meet her eyes, he needed to know that everything that had occurred there behind closed doors needed to be forgotten but she had a feeling he wouldn't take that very well.

"Roose," She called, drawing the man back to her. Pausing in his walk, Bolton retreated back towards Eliana and raised his eyes, a frown soon forming. "Send Ser Jaime on his way..." Eliana spoke, relieved when the man nodded and moved away.

Jaime, who was across the yard, was also sat atop a courser and staring in her general direction like a besotted fool until Bolton strode over to him, silently noting the look of desire Jaime was giving Eliana. "Qyburn hopes your father will force the Citadel to give him back his chain." Jaime's attention slowly went to Bolton as he stood the near the neck of his horse.

Jaime frowned when he saw the smug look plastered upon Bolton's face, the arrogance of a proud northerner. "My father will make him Grand Maester if he grows me a new hand," Jaime replied, pretending to be interested with the reins of his courser. Slowly, his gaze landed on Eliana again, she was now adjusting the mitten gauntlet covering her right hand.

Bolton nodded, falsely smiling at Jaime's jest. He followed his gaze and saw whom he was watching with those green eyes of his. "You will give my regards to Lord Tywin, I trust?" He announced dryly, still smirking as his eyes flew back to him and stilled.

Turning his horse, Jaime faced the gates and merely glanced back down a Roose Bolton. "Tell Robb Stark I'm sorry I couldn't make his uncle's wedding... the Lannisters send their regards." And with that, he began to slowly trot towards the heavy gate, his eyes staring when he spotted Eliana slipping a concealed dagger into a bag that hung from her saddle.

He couldn't help but smile as she looked back to Bolton, keeping an eye on him to make sure he didn't see her doing such a thing. But it also worried him, knowing that Eliana assumed something bad would occur. However, his happiness was short lived when he heart the slobbery voice of Hoat.

"Safe journey, Kingslayer." He sneered, squinting as the sunlight blinded him momentarily. " _Nothing to say?_ " Hoat glanced to the men surrounding him, snickering darkly as Jaime continued on before him, Qyburn at his side. "I liked you better before... I don't remember chopping your balls off, too. And don't you worry about your friend... Lord Bolton will take good care of her, don't you worry." Hoat promised, walking alongside him until he rode through the gate.

* * *

Gently and worriedly, Qyburn slowly removed the dressing that covered Jaime's stump. He'd hoped the corruption had not festered. As he pulled away the thick cloth, he let out a sigh of relief to see that the wound had begun to heal rather nicely, though it still wept silently. "How is the pain, my lord?" He asked, turning to reach for some supplies he needed.

Jaime sighed, his hair billowing in the wind as he tried to watch Qyburn's swift movement. "What's the purpose of an arm with no hand?" He questioned lightly, flinching when he felt the Maester's fingers glided over his stitched skin.

"Well, we've stymied the corruption."

Jaime stared at him, unblinking. "Yes,  _we've stymied the corruption_. You're a learned man." He commented, dryly, coughing to clear his throat.

"All the good it's done me."

"You did well sewing up this mess." Jaime praised honestly, thankful that the man hadn't cut his entire arm off like he so desired. "You're far better at this sort of work than Grand Maester Pycelle." He sucked in a breath when he felt him pour a chilly, uncomfortable liquid over his wrist.

Qyburn allowed a smile to pass his lips at his words. "Faint praise, my lord."

"So why did the Citadel take your chain?" Jamie wondered, staring at him suspiciously, trying to figure out what his weakness might be and also thinking it must have been something drastic as he lost his chain from it. "Did you fondle one boy too many?"

Qyburn shook his head. "No, my lord... that's not my weakness." He let out quietly, placing a bottle back into his worn satchel and reaching for a bandage before slowly beginning to wrap it around the stump.

Jaime's eyes narrowed even more. "What is?" He asked, allowing his curiosity to get the better of him in that moment.

"Curiosity." Qyburn admitted, adjusting the bandage as he wound it securely around his wrist. "The only way to treat disease is to understand disease, and the only way to understand it is to study the afflicted." He asserted, almost as if he was trying to compel Jaime to believe his words, that or it was his passion for the art of operating upon the dying rushing to the surface.

"You performed experiments on living men." Jaime concluded, suddenly knowing what he meant by "understand".

"On dying men." He corrected curtly.

Jaime scoffed, "With their permission?" He tilted his head in a patronising way to make sure the Maester answered his questions and didn't avoid them with stupid one word answers.

As he tied the bandage, Qyburn continued. "My studies have given me insight that has saved many lives."

Jaime glanced around to see Steelshanks far away, he turned back to Qyburn and lowered his voice. "Dying paupers, I assume. Men with no families to complain." He paused, watching as the older man held his gaze, obviously interested with how he felt about the matter. "You found them moaning in the poorhouse and had them carted back to your garret and opened up their bellies to see what was inside."

Sitting back, Qyburn let his hands fall from Jaime's stump. "How many men have you killed, my lord?" He asked suddenly, catching Jaime off guard by the simple question.

But Jaime didn't know how to answer - he didn't know the number of those he'd killed, he didn't count. "... I don't know." Jaime replied honestly with a faint shrug of his shoulders; it was impossible for him to ever know.

"Fifty?" The Maester guessed but Jaime shook his head, "A hundred?" Again, Jaime made a noise in the back of his throat and still shook his head and Qyburn only had one conclusion. "Countless."

"Countless has a nice ring to it." Jaime agreed quickly enough.

Not expecting Jaime to be the galliant knight he so claimed to be, Qyburn decided to press him further. "And how many lives have you saved?"

That question however, was far easier for him to answer than the others and Qyburn obviously didn't expect him to be that of a galliant knight as he lowered his eyes and returned to fixing the bandage tightly. "Half a million..." As he heard his words, Qyburn's eyes quickly met his in surprise. "The population of King's Landing." He lifted his stump and managed to pull it through the loop with Qyburn's help.

They fell silent, neither knowing what to say.

"Eliana will be safe with Bolton?" Jaime wondered, wanting to change the subject. "He won't hurt her? How can you be so sure to trust the man?"

Qyburn sighed, "Lord Bolton is returning her to her brother; her punishment if for King Robb to decide rather than Lord Bolton, anyway, I believe the girl has seen enough pain to last a lifetime." Qyburn waited for his reply, but it didn't come and then he realised something. "You love that woman do you not?"

Jaime's head shot up, and amused look upon his face. "What? ... No." He denied, shaking his head as the stupid accusation.  _Where did he get that from?_

But the Maetser wouldn't drop it. "We both know she could be dead by this evening, my lord. Let's be honest with one another; I saw the way you looked at her... the desire of wanting her." Qyburn told Jaime softly, staring at him.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

That made the Maester chuckle, a light-hearted noise that erupted from his chest. "I know desire when seen, for I have experienced it myself." He informed Jaime, telling him it wasn't a bad thing.

Jaime licked his lips, his eyes glued to the ground. "We were travel companions is all. Nothing more." He stated, not wanting to believe what Qyburn was saying. He had to deny it, he had to be faithful to his sister, his lover, Cersei.

 _But he hadn't had he?_  Jaime willingly bedded Eliana because she allowed him to and he tried to sneak in as many kisses as he could - when he did all that, not once did he think of Cersei or imagine her in Eliana's place - he kissed her and forgot all about his sister and centered all his attention and thoughts around Eliana. And he'd enjoyed every moment of it, and he would gladly to it again. But he didn't love her...  _did he? Has she wormed her way into his heart as easily as that?_  ... He didn't know.

"But you're heart disagrees with your mind's assessment." Qyburn observed his inner-conflict.

He smiled to himself. "How could I not? ... She's beautiful, she can fight, she can take and give jokes here and there. She has honour and is sharp-witted..." He listed absently, his mind trailing off as he thought.

Qyburn nodded,  _perhaps he does love this girl he speaks so fondly of..._ "So you  _do_  love her."

"She's enemy..." Jaime rose to his feet, not denying that of Qyburn but he didn't want to admit it to himself, knowing the Maester already knew.  _I can't be can I? Inlove with the She-Wolf of the North?_  "I'm the lion and she's the wolf." He let out, shuffling away from Qyburn. "It would never work."

Smiling at his words, Qyburn knew Jaime had strong feelings for Eliana, he didn't have to make him admit them - all he had to do was quesiton him about and he would become skittish, as skittish as deer and Qyburn could confirm his love for the girl, it wasn't like he made to cover it up - he seemed so open and carefree when speaking of her.

"Ah, the lion and the wolf."

* * *

When they paused for a break, Eliana winced as she slid from the saddle to hit the dingy muck below her feet. Her joints had seized up and there was nothing she wanted more than to run, get her blood flowing and increase her heartrate.

Closing her eyes, she tilted her neck and felt the bones crack and ripple through her head and vibrating down her spine. "Eliana," She looked around and spotted Bolton marching over to her, forcing a map into her grasp. "We're just past Fairmarket. If we continue up the Blue Fork we should reach your brother's camp by nightfall, but that depends on our haste and the speed of our horses." He informed her, straightening his legs. "We leave in five minutes... drink, rest up."

Eliana nodded, placing the map down beside her and rubbing her wrists as the manacles sunk their teeth deeper into her skin, she knew the manacles would continue to bring her further discontent the more she fought with them - although they were clearly obsolete and fractured - they  _would not_  losen. " _Eliana..._ " Her head shot up, she'd sworn she heard someone call her name once more. Looking around the camp, she found all the men were going about their own business but then her eyes landed on the newly lit fire.

Narrowing her eyes, she stared at the flickering flames before her as they spat and hissed away in the cold, brisk mid morning air. Cautiously, she leant forward when she could've sworn she saw her own reflection in a flickering orange dancer. Her eyes narrowed even further when she saw Bolton appear and vanish followed by her mother and brother, then she saw a cackling man, whose face she couldn't make out as it appeared to her. What confused her even more was when she saw a bear appear...  _what was that?_

But as soon as it had occurred, it was gone.

Convinced that R'hllor wanted to confuse her and having seen enough, Eliana pulled away from the flames and shook her head. Her head was filled with enough nosense as it was. She held her head in her hands and closed her eyes, her mind running wild. She was tired, that's what she put it down to; the Red God had never answered her before,  _so why would he now?_  She must've closed them for a moment and soon enough she could hear the faint sound of singing ringing through her ears and infecting her mind.

" _But now the rains weep o'er his hall,_ _with no one there to hear._ _Yes now the rains weep o'er his hall,_ _and not a soul to hear._ " The voices sung while the songs drifted around her head, the hairs on her neck rising instinctively even though she wasn't conscious. The song changed. " _From there to here. From here! To there! All black and brown and covered with hair! He smelled that girl on the summer air! The bear! The bear! The maiden fair!"_

She woke confused,  _what was that?_ It must have had some symbolic meaning, otherwise why would've she seen it. She figured that the images she saw in the flames and the songs she'd heard must be linked in some way, it was the only possible reason for her seeing them one after another. She just knew that their meaning would soon unfold piece by piece around her and then she chose to pray to R'hllor, knowing whatever was in store may not be good.

"Āeksio yne ilīritas... bantis zōbrie issa se ossȳngnoti lēdys."

* * *

She couldn't feel her bottom when she caught sight of the Twins - two squat, ugly, formidable castles, identical in every aspect with a bridge arching between - which had guarded the crossing for centuries in the distance, loomping over the hills. However, her eyes soon fell upon the welcoming party, the group of seven men marching towards to escort them to her brother.

When they were met, Bolton nodded to the foot soldiers, who pulled Eliana from her saddle rather forcefully that it made her fall to her knees in agony. "Careful, she's injured." He reminded a bit too late, looking amused by her discomfort.

They dragged her up and led her along towards the swaying tents to face what she'd been dreading, while being showever with heavy drops of rain or hail... she didn't know. It was when they pulled her across the fields she heard all the insults the men could muster to break her.  _Whore of the Kingslayer_ , was popular choice, that and  _treasonous cunt_. But she wouldn't allow a few names get to her, she had her honour still. Her bath water at Winterfell was probably better than any of Robb's men had seen, when given the opportunity the wash.

She could see his tent, standing tall and standing proud with their banners accompanying the posts outside. From the distance, she could spot moving figures; Talisa moving about inside and she mentally slapped herself.  _Had her brother married that foreigner, took her for his wife?_ "King Robb, your sister and Lord Bolton." Manfred announced, his fingers curcling tightly around her arms, pressing down upon her muscles.

"Bring them in." She heard him say, his voice deeper than she remembered and some what more kingly? Manfred kicked her leg and she fell forward, her manacles clattering together loudly.

She flew down into the mud and groaned softly in pain, wincing as she tried to miss landing on her shoulder. Eliana didn't dare look up to meet her brother's eyes; she was afraid that he would be so angry that he may choose to kill her or leave her to the mercy of his men but he didn't. She rubbed her cheek against her shoulder, spitting out the muck that caked her lips sourly.

It was quiet for a few moments before anyone spoke again.

Robb winced, never seeing her look so vulnerable in a position such as that. "Pick her up." He ordered, watching how easily she was lifted. He frowned when she didn't look up at him, refusing to meet his gaze and he knew something had happened to make her weak. "Lia, look at me."

But she wouldn't, she wouldn't lift her eyes from the ground. She stood for a few seconds before falling to the ground once more, unable to muster the strength to keep herself standing. The kick to her legs had taken it from her, rendering her powerless and weak.

Robb glanced back at his mother, who looked as though she wanted nothing more than to take her into her arms. "Lia,  _look at me_." His voice was far more commanding this time. He failed to understand why she refused to look at him, to meet his eyes but he was about to find out.

Hesitantly, Eliana's slowly moved her head and finally met his eyes, watching as his own eyes widened when he looked at her whole face. She then looked to her mother, who let out a sheen of tears, her hands flying to her mouth. It was her face that neither could stop staring at, the deep disintegration on the left side of her face.

Immediately Robb clenched his fists, feeling Talisa's arm tighten around his forearm, he looked around and he gaze fell on Bolton. Immediately, he rushed forward, he face the reflection of thunder. "Who did this to her?" He demanded, wanting to know of the cultprit.

Bolton sighed, frowning at the mark on her face. "One of my men, Hoat his name is, he let his anger get the better of him. This is -  _was_  controlled, most of the time he's unpredictable. Your sister is lucky to be alive, Your Grace."

"You call that controlled?!" Robb shouted, outraged. "He's marked my sister for life, maimed her for no reason! Destroyed her... wounded her, wounded me." Robb explained, glaring, wanting to punch him in the face with his fist if it meant his face was ruined for life.

"Your Grace -"

"Get out!" Robb exclaimed, bearing his teeth. He turned to look back at his sister, he pulled off his cloak and moved to drape it around her shoulders before pulling her up and holding her to his side. He grimaced when he felt how thin she'd become beneath the cloak, her ribs rippled below his fingers and for a moment, he thought she might snap.

Talisa pulled out a chair, her hands out ready to help in case she was needed. Catelyn stood there watching with wide eyes, afraid to go near her daughter incase she blamed her for the pain forced upon her and push her away.

Robb guided her into the chair, and noticed that her hands were shaking beyond belief. She wasn't the Lia he grew up with anymore, she'd been wounded so badly that her pride was tarnished beyond the point of repair. "Lia?" He asked, staring at her, waiting for her to speak.

"It's not as bad as it looks."

Robb reached for the collar of the tunic and noted that the mark disappared below the neck line. He didn't want to think how violated she must have felt, and all alone. "How far does it go?" He pressed, sitting back on his knees.

Eliana frowned and her hand twitched as it closed around her knee. "It stops just above the thigh." She whispered, her voice cracking as she spoke.

Pushing past Talisa, not able to stand by and watch any longer, Catelyn took her daughter in her arms and held her to her tightly. "My lovely Lia..." She whispered, allowing her tears to fall. "What have they done to you..." Her fingers graced through her hair, still soft but littered with mud and other filth.

She should never had forced her to go in the first place, when knowing this would have been the result of her trying to get the Kingslayer to King's Landing.  _She could've died, your own daughter! Your first born..._ she couldn't dare think about it without let out another sob. She felt her hands curl around her arms, as Catelyn cried into her daughter's hair.

"It's all right, mother." She promised, realising how hard it must be on her; she was blaming herself. "It's my own fault, you have no need to blame yourself for my wrong doings..."

Robb slowly climbed to his feet, unable to look at his sister anymore without seeing the hatred for Bolton emerge. He couldn't believe he'd allowed this to happen to his sister of all people,  _his own sister!_

Talisa looked to her husband, frowning. She followed him, afraid he would do something foolish given the chance. "You can't punish her, she came back to you in this time of need..." She whispered, clutching his arms tightly between her fingers.

Robb closed his eyes, not knowing what to do anymore. He couldn't please his sister and banners both, and then there was his mother and his wife... he was lost. But he wouldn't be forced into something as unjusticifyed at that. He  _would not_  harm her. "You're right; I can't harm her, she's already in a state as it is - she's wounded."

Looking around the tent, Eliana's eyes landed on the map stretched out across the table to see that they're plan had changed by the way the pieces had been arranged. Slowly, she pulled away from her mother, moving to climb to her feet carefully before treading towards the table in the centre of the room. "What's that?" She inquired, her interest perked suddenly when Robb turned to look at her once more.

"We have a new heading sister."

Eliana narrowed her eyes at him, "Which is... ?" She lightly implored, her eyes circling the map while she moved closer to it. She could her mother at her side, and she knew that she didn't have a clue either.

Robb gestured for the two of them to come stand by the table, "We're going to take Casterly Rock." He announced casually, his eyes smiling at the map while Eliana and Catelyn stared at him like he was mad.

Catelyn stared at the map, her eyes ghosting over the pieces; lion and wolf. "Are you sure about this?" She asked, worried about this plan of his, wanting to know if there was any sense behind it.

"No."

Eliana frowned, her brow furrowing in misunderstanding. "Wait, let me understand... you've got a plan that you're not even sure will work?" She questioned, tilting her head to look over at her brother. "You have a plan that may not work? Do you want to die?

Robb smiled nervously, moving around the table.

"It's dangerous." Catelyn noted, as Robb moved to pour himself a horn of wine.

"If we take Tywin's castle from him, the lords of Westeros will realize he's not invincible." Robb conceded, not seeing his new plan as a failure but a heading for them to seek victory elsewhere. " _Take his home, take his gold, take his power_."

Catelyn looked to her son, narrowing her eyes. "Why are you telling me? Why me and Lia?" Catelyn pressed, wanting to know why Robb wasn't consulting his war council and instead telling his plans to his sister and mother.

Robb hesitated and sighed, hanging his head in shame. "You both begged me not to send Theon to negotiate with his father and I ignored your advice. Now Winterfell is burnt to the ground, the North is overrun with ironborn, and Bran and Rickon are gone." Robb explained easily, now knowing that he was in the wrong after meeting on endless mistake after another. "So Casterly Rock... I'm asking your advice."

"We have enough men?" Eliana asked, leaning against the table to flick over a lion piece, picturing both Cersei and Tywin as she did but most of all, Joffrey. "Do we have enough men to kill these incestous bastards?"

"If Walder Frey cooperates."

Catelyn smiled and nodded, " _If Walder Frey cooperates_." She repeated, glancing over at Eliana who was flicking down all the lion pieces with her middle finger. "If reinforcements arrive from King's Landing before we take the castle... we'll be caught between Tywin's army and the sea." Catelyn explained, moving pieces across the map.

Robb placed a small piece of the Twins near the Lannisport. "We'll lose the war and die the way Father died.  _Or worse_."

Catelyn's eyes flickered back to her daughter quickly before she next spoke. "Unless the Martells rally behind us and sail to the west to support us from the sea." She informed him, not really thinking as she spoke.

"Wait, wait...  _what now?_  Please don't tell me that you sent a missive to Doran asking for help... he doesn't partake in wars, and he certainly won't allow Oberyn to come." Eliana moaned, annoyed that they'd been so stupid to think because she was in the mist of a war that Doran would let Oberyn come running as well. "Doran will not risk Oberyn's life, he already lost Elia and he will certainly not be so stupid to allow Oberyn to leave Dorne at the risk he may die."

Knowing her daughter was right and that she could really do no more, Catelyn drew in a deep breath. If the Dornish didn't cooperate either, then they would be lost without a cost and in the lion's jaws. "Show them  _how it feels_  to lose what they love." She said, taking both Robb and Eliana's hands into her own and holding them tightly.


	25. Bloodshed

It was another dull morning around the twins, faintly spitting from the Heavens above as Robb and Eliana slowly emerged from his tent, both not looking happy. "You can't take  _her_ ; it will insult him even further." She argued with her brother, staring as his climbed upon his horse.

" _Her_  name is Talisa, sister."

Eliana sighed, "And you're going to take her with you before the man of whose daughter you were supposed to marry." She paused, seeing her mother wandering over to them with Brynden at her side but Edmure was nowhere to be seen. "Don't be a fool, Robb... you wanted my advice, I'm issuing it."

He look reluctant, and soon shook his head. "No, Talisa has every right to be there. She is my wife, and he will have to accept that whether he likes it or not, as will you." Robb expressed with a dark look, staring down at her.

"They won't like it Robb." Eliana pleaded. "Just think about this..."

"I have, I don't care if they don't like it; Talisa is the woman I love, the woman I married. She has every right to go, I am no coward, Lia... who do you take me for?"

"A King, but -"

She gaped as he rode off, probably in search for his foreign wife. Eliana couldn't believe him, during the period of time she'd been gone he'd changed, he wasn't the Robb she grew up with in Winterfell anymore - he was besotted by the idea of being in love and so, was blind to the real world.

"He knows what he's doing."

She turned, seeing Brynden and sighed. "Does he? Just like he knew what he was doing when he beheaded Rickard Karstark? That's what put us in this mess in the first place, that and him marrying that foreigner... he could've waited until the war was over to do something so stupid." Eliana growled, looking down.

Catelyn frowned, "What are you wearing?" She pressed, ignoring Brynden when he snorted. In her eyes, Eliana wasn't wearing the appropriate attire for a wedding in her eyes; leather breeches accompanied by a silken tunic that hung loosely from her body. On top she wore a woollen poncho with that mitten gauntlet of hers which covered her right hand.

"It's Walder Frey, he should expect nothing less."

Brynden continued to snort at her remarks. "This is turning into a rather amusing day." He commented, wrapping an arm around Eliana's shoudler, carefully to not lay it across her left shoulder. "Come on, little fawn; let's see if we can find you a suitable horse."

* * *

The hall was like the crypts of Winterfell; cold and lifeless yet, they were being watched as they entered. All of Frey's sons and bastards and grandbastards and so on stared as if in a trance whilst Robb led his company into the great hall. Eliana was at his side, their mother next to her while Talisa stood on his other, clutching his arm as she usually did while Edmure stood on her other.

Robb slowly passed the large bowl of salt with bread to his sister as he placed his own into his mouth, his eyes warily watching old Walder Frey as he sat in his creaky chair. Eliana carefully handed it to her mother, who ate, then passed it back as Walder begun to speak.

"My honoured guests... be welcome within my walls and at my table." He started while the same bread and salt was passed around his own family and finally, brought to himself. "I extend to you my hospitality and protection in the light of the Seven... Good to see you Eliana, nice to see you are alive and well." Walder slowly placed the salted bread into his mouth, "Though you do look a bit on the battered side, eh?"

Eliana glared at the man sat far from her across the other side of the room. She didn't say anything, she just stared unable to look away especially when he caught her gaze and held it for a long while.

Robb saw the glare exchange between them and stepped in front of his sister so Walder's eyes would meet his. "We thank you for your hospitality, my lord. I have come to make my apologies, my lord, and to beg your forgiveness." Robb announced, his jaw tightening when he saw Walder trying to look around him to look at his sister's face.

Walder scoffed, shaking his head dramatically. "Don't beg  _my_  forgiveness, Your Grace. It wasn't me you spurned. It was my girls. One of them was supposed to be queen, now  _none_  of them are." His old voice carried through the hall as Eliana shared a glance with her mother while Walder gestured for the girls move to stand before Robb. Soon enough he began to list the girls, each of them nodding to Robb as he did. "... Serra and Sarra, granddaughters, twins. You could have had either... could have had both for all I care. My granddaughter Marianne, my granddaughter Freya. My granddaughter... Wertha. Waldra? Waldina?"

She looked up, her snowy face reddening at his mistake. "I'm Merry." She corrected, though it sounded more of an apology.

"Fine." Walder agreed, not caring if that was indeed her name or not. "And here's my youngest daughter Shirei, though she hasn't bled yet. Clearly you don't have the patience for all that." He continued, trying to get under Robb's skin.

Ignoring the comment, Robb smiled at Shirei and then looked to the others with a deep sigh. "My ladies." He addressed, pausing. "All men should keep their word, kings most of all. I was pledged to marry one of you and I broke that vow. The fault is not with you..." Robb promised them, closing his eyes before he carried on. "Any man would be lucky to have any one of you. I did what I did not to slight you, but because I loved another. I know these words cannot set right the wrong I have done to you and your house. I beg your forgiveness and pledge to do all I can to make amends so the Freys of the Crossing and the Starks of Winterfell may once again be friends."

Nodding, Frey raised his hands and began to clap to tell his daughters to disperse, his rotting teeth glistening in the night as his eerie little eyes stayed glued to Robb. "Very good." He agreed, his eyes shifting to land on Talisa, who stood looking rather uncomfortable beside Edmure. "There she is. Come closer. Let me have a look at you.

Hesitantly, Talisa looked to Eliana who stood watching Walder with dark eyes and she realised she must've sensed her watching as she looked and nodded for her to move forward. Slowly and carefully, she treaded towards where old Walder sat.

He laughed at her approach, "Still can't see you... old eyes, love." He called out to her, and she looking to her husband for reassurance.

Robb nodded for her to go on and Talisa strode further away from him and closer to Walder, bowing her head in respect.

Walder stared down at Talisa, a menacing smile appearing. "That's what the Starks of Winterfell call it, eh?" He chuckled darkly, " _Very honourable_. I call it a pretty face.  _Mmm_ , very pretty... prettier than this lot, that's for sure. Very shapely as well..." He trailed off, licking his lips while he kept observing her. "Oh, you try to hide her under that dress. If you wanted to hide her, you shouldn't have brought her here in the first place."

Eliana couldn't help but feel she was in the right by that point; smug was more a suitable choice of feeling. She'd told Robb exactly the same thing, offering him advice and he chose to ignore it once more. Talisa was not safe here, none of them were.

Walder leant forward in his chair and smiled again. "I can always see what's going on beneath a dress, been at this a long time... I bet when you take that dress off, everything stays right where it is.  _Doesn't drop an inch_. Your king says he betrayed me for love, I say he betrayed me for firm tits and a tight fit." Hearing his words, Robb started forward with his fists clutched tightly but Catelyn easily caught him and held him back from doing so.

"And I can respect that." Walder's eyes flew to Robb, raising a hand in defence, though silently pleased to get under Robb's skin so easily with his words. "When I was your age, I'd have broken fifty oaths to get into that without a second thought." He stopped momentarily, clearing his throat. "Well, I've enough room in the hall for you lot, we'll set up tents outside with food and ale for the rest of your men.

Strained, Robb nodded and forced a smile. "Thank you, my lord."

Clasping his hands together, Walder rose from his seat and cast his eyes around the hall. "Well, let's get ready. The wine will flow red and the music will play loud and we'll put this mess behind us." Old Walder declared, an unruly smile appearing which left Eliana feeling somewhat uneasy and sick to her stomach.

* * *

Waiting was the worst thing in the world, Walder was taking advantage of this wedding and definitely using it to help him in ways she couldn't begin to list as Eliana figured there was a vast number of them. Eliana stood next to her mother, staring at the sign of the Seven that hung from the wall disgracefully. The Faith of the Seven, a complete waste of time of praying to them in her eyes, and not understanding why they were needed for a wedding. Footsteps echoed as Walder led Roslin down the aisle, slowly,  _very slowly_. Hearing them approaching, she glanced back and her eyes caught those of Bolton's who was watching her.

As old Walder walked on, h caught Robb's eyes as he passed and soon continued to lead Roslin towards a nervous, uncomfortable Edmure Tully. Walder turned and cautiously lifted Roslin's vail so it sat lightly on her shoulders, and she was beautiful - Edmure's face gave that away, he looked absolutely smitten with her just based upon her looks and to think he'd been whining the entire journey there.

Moving towards him, Roslin bowed head and sunk to her knees. "Lord Edmure... I hope I'm not a disappointment to you." She whispered, her voice as small and quiet as a mouse, so vulnerable and weak.

He chuckled, reaching forward to help her stand. "You're a delight to me, my lady.

"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection." The Septon told Edmure, as he removed his cloak and draped it over Roslin's carefully. Roslin looked to Robb, who looked back at Walder. The old man wore a smug face and turned back to face them as the Septon continued by placing a thin strip of silk across the hands, ready to weave. "In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity... look upon each other and say the words."

And together they took a pair of deep breaths before speaking their vows, turning to face one another with small smiles;

_Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger... I am hers... and she is mine... from this day until the end of my days._

_Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger... I am his... and he is mine... from this day until the end of my days._

The ceremony was short and fairly simple, however, the reception faired to be entirely different. Outside, the men were fighting and brawling in the mud to pass the time of waiting to be on the move again, but inside, the celebrations had only just begun.

The hall was full of jubilant life.

The music was loud as it danced through Catelyn's head, she sighed, shaking her head as she watched her brother and Roslin. "He complained about this marriage the entire ride from Riverrun,  _and now look at him._ " She pointed out, a small smile playing on her lips. She couldn't believe his endless whining had led him to become this besotted fool.

Bryden nodded at her assessment, " _The gods love to reward a fool._ " He commented dryly, sipping his wine and sharing a smile with Eliana, who soon started to laugh which would only encourage Brynden further.

"Uncle." Catelyn smiled.

Brynden grinned, "What?" He questioned, innocently. "He's my nephew. I love him, and he's a damned fool."

"I'll toast to that!" Eliana jeered, raising her goblet as Brynden clashed his own against hers.

From the corner of her eyes, Catelyn saw a maid approach to fill Bolton's goblet but his hand covered it, and she paused and rushed away. "Don't you drink, Lord Bolton?" Questioned Catelyn, raising an eyebrow as she did.

He shook his head, his eyes catching Eliana's when he saw her watching. "Never do, my lady. Dulls the senses..." He replied, shrugging.

Brynden rolled his eyes, leaning back into his chair to relax. "That's the point... didn't you marry one of these Frey girls?" He pressed, watching as the maid re-filled his own goblet to the point where it ran down his hand.

"Aye." Bolton nodded. "Lord Walder let me choose any of his granddaughters and promised me the girl's weight in silver as a dowry. So I have a fat young bride." He explained, seeming rather pleased with himself but all Elina felt by his reply was disgust and repulsion.

Catleyn smiled falsely, reaching for her goblet to take a swift sip. "I hope she makes you very happy." She congratulated formerly, at a loss for words when he said he had a fat bride to make him rich.

Bolton pulled a face and sighed, "Well, she's made me very rich." He answered with a small smirk.

Brynden stood and looked between the three of them, "Pardon, my lord, my lady... Little fawn. I need to find a tree to piss on." He announced before wandering off.

Robb looked to his left and saw his mother conversing with Bolton. "My mother's alone with Roose Bolton. I should rescue her." He commented, knowing that neither his mother nor his sister liked the man.

Talisa frowned, looking past Robb to see Roose, Catelyn and Eliana. "Your mother is less in need of rescue than any woman I've ever met and besides your sister is with her, she'll be fine."

Robb looked back at her and chuckled. "My sister cannot stand Roose Bolton, give her a dagger and she will give you a dead body." He admitted with a wry smile, knowing that Eliana would gladly carve away Bolton's head. "Anyway, be kind... she's finally starting to like you."

She nodded, sighing softly. "And I like her, but if she had her way I would be back in Voltantis playing my harp and you would be sitting over there, eating blackberries out of Roslin Frey's hand." She looked over at his uncle, who was smiling like a fool as he ate.

Robb shrugged, his eyes following Talisa's gaze. "Perhaps, I've made a terrible mistake..."

Shocked by his sudden remark, Talisa moved to hit him playfully on the shoulder but Robb saw through her thoughts and easily caught her wrist. "Striking your King is an act of treason." He muttered with a smile, going to plant a kiss against her lips until she stopped him with a shove.

"No...  _don't_ , don't insult him." She whispered, stroking his face.

Her eyes narrowing slowly, Eliana looked behind her to see Brienne stood waiting for her command. "Go outside and gather five horses... we'll be leaving after the feast, better stay out of sight as well." She whispered as she stone carved woman nodded and strode off towards the entrance of the hall though she couldn't help but worry for the woman, knowing she would be outside alone with a camp full of men.

"Your Grace." Old Walder called, the gathered then began to drum their knives and forks against the tables, the sound clattering loud enough so it bounced off of the walls. He raised his hand to silence them. "The septon has prayed his prayers,  _some words were said,_  and Lord Edmure has wrapped my daughter in a cloak, but they are not yet man and wife." He paused, smirking when he saw a frown fall upon everyone's faces. "A sword needs a sheath and a wedding needs a bedding... what does my sire say?"

" _To bed! To bed! To bed!_ "

Robb grinned as the jeering only grew throughout the hall, looking around he rose to his feet and strolled around his table. "If you think the time is right, Lord Walder, by all means, let us bed them." He declared, and then the uproar erupted once more.

" _To bed! To bed! To bed!_ "

Several companies of men rushed forward, eager to rid young Roslin of her clothes. Eliana and Catelyn looked to each other and sighed, watching as Roslin was carried out of the hall.

Reprimanded at the sight of the occurrence, Talisa stood abruptly and gaped as Roslin disappeared, the poor girl clearly had no idea what was going on. Her worry deepened further when Edmure was carried off by a swarm of girls, giggling happily.

"Oh!" Edmure chuckled, sending Robb a wink as he passed him. "Careful now, ladies. Once you set that monster free, there's no caging him again." He exclaimed as she ran along the aisle and towards the door.

" _To bed! To bed! To bed!_ "

Catelyn placed her hand on her daughter's shoulder as they stared after Roslin and Edmure who'd been carted off elsewhere. "Poor girl..." She sighed, moving to stand beside Bolton.

"Every bride suffers the same. I'm sure you endured yours with grace." He replied, observing the scene before turning to glance back at Catelyn briefly.

"Oh, Ned forbade it." Catelyn laughed a response, remembering from that day and onwards she knew she married the right man. "He said it wouldn't be right if he broke a man's jaw on our wedding night."

He chuckled and moved off, passing Eliana while she stared after him. Something was definitely up with him, especially tonight yet she couldn't place it... but it just didn't seem right to her. "I don't trust him..." Eliana muttered bitterly, picking up her goblet and downing the last contents of wine that lurked at the bottom.

Talisa leant towards her husband to whisper in his ear, "That is a very strange custom."

Robb smiled and faced her quickly. "I suppose it does seem strange from a foreigner's perspective." He agreed, the thought filling his head as he considered the possibility.

"It seems normal to you?" Talisa inquired, raising an eyebrow in concern.

"It's a tradition." Robb stated. "Without the bedding ceremony, there's no real proof the lord and lady consummated their marriage." He informed Talisa, smiling lovingly.

"But there are other ways of providing proof." Slowly, she drew his hand to his stomach and held it there.

"Boy or girl?"

She couldn't express how excited she felt in that moment, how happy she felt about bringing a new life into the world with him, her husband. "I don't know. But if it's a boy, I know what we should name him."

"Oh, do you?" Robb hummed, pulling her tight against him. "It seems to me the father should have some say in his son's naming."

"Eddard." Talisa murmured just low enough for him to hear, smiling as his hands caressed his growing stomach. His face fell and she wondered if she didn't agree; that he would shout and demand a different choice of name for their child. "Don't you want to teach little Ned Stark how to ride horses?" Talisa dared to ask.

"I do."

They shared a smile before leaning towards each other and embracing in a kiss full of love.

She watched them with love in her eyes, Catelyn finally realised that the woman from Volantis may not have been as bad as she felt thought but Catelyn's gaze fled from her son and his wife when she spied Lothar Frey marching towards the doors of the hall and proceeded to haul them to a close.

Eliana froze as she remembered the incident with the fire and what she thought was Greensight, but she couldn't be sure... but now she was hearing that song,  _that_  dreaded song. She turned to look at the musicians that sat atop the balcony conducting the song that filled the hall, she eyed them hoping that one would stir and look back at her so she would achieve some assurance of her conclusion.

Catelyn didn't notice at first, only when her daughter had frozen to her spot in the hall as she conversed light-heartedly with Roose Bolton had Catelyn recognised the song flowing through her ears. She saw her eyes harden and her jaw tighten in unsettlement, and her daughter knew as soon as the sour tune sounded.

"Everything all right, my lady?" Bolton frowned, questioning her with that small smirk of his.

Eliana's brow deepened in worry but she didn't dismiss the song as she went to reply. "What did  _he_  say to you on his departure to King's Landing?" Her question was odd and surprising to Bolton, though he didn't truly expect any less.

He shrugged, "Nothing for you to worry over, my lady." He promised, his smirk not faltering for a moment.

Eliana stood back, feeling the hairs on her neck stand on instinct of suspicion when the music grew louder.  _Why a Lannister song?_ She couldn't place it... it was strange and unheard of at a wedding in the Riverlands.

Catelyn met her daughter's gaze and saw the question rise into her blue eyes while she stared back in worry. She cast her eyes around her to see that no one else had noticed the strange occurrence through the hall, not even Robb.

* * *

_And who are you, the proud lord said,_

_that I must bow so low?_

_Only a cat of a different coat,_

_that's all the truth I know._

_In a coat of gold or a coat of red,_

_a lion still has claws,_

_And mine are long and sharp, my lord,_

_as long and sharp as yours._

_And so he spoke,_ _and so he spoke,_

_that Lord of Castamere,_

_But now the rains weep o'er his hall,_

_with no one there to hear._

_Yes now the rains weep o'er his hall,_

_and not a soul to-_

The music stopped.

Lord Walder raised his hand to silence them, his goblet still sat firmly in his hand. "Your Grace." He called Robb's attention to him. The King in the North turned on his heel and stepped forward, ready to hear the Lord's words. " _I_  feel I've been remiss in my duties. I've given you meat and wine and music, but I haven't shown you the hospitality you deserve." As he spoke, Catelyn returned to her seat but Eliana remained standing, far too unsettled to do so. "My king has married and I owe my new queen a wedding gift."

Her eyes were drawn to the man beside her, Catelyn looked desperately to Roose Bolton for help but he simply nodded down to his sleeve as his arm rested against the weirwood table. Gingerly, her hand reached for his sleeve, her fingers grasping the material and pulling it back to reveal a thick layer of ringmail. She sucked in a breath of realisation and swiftly forced her hand against his cheek.

The sound drew the attention of Eliana who was now frowning in confusion at her mother's actions, not following what had happened. She then saw Bolton rush off before her mother called to her brother who stood a few feet away from her. "Robb!" It was a pained cry, full of despair.

A shriek filled the hall and their eyes trailed to her, a mess of blood as she lay on the floor. One of Walder's bastards or grandbastards... whatever they were, had plunged a meat knife into Talisa's belly where sat the unborn heir to the North. Blood spilled from the bump as Talisa rose but fell from the attack.

Robb stared in her direction, his eyes traumatised at what he was seeing unfold before him.

A dance of arrows and knives broke out around them mere seconds after the first attack, surrounding them in death as the bannermen fell dead to the obscene attack.

Eliana heard the whispers of arrows, turning around to see Robb turning and stumbling when an arrow lodged itself in his shoulder, and being thrown back when another two shot towards him. Her mind reeled at the thought of yet another betrayal. Seeing the crossbows aimed in her mother's direction, Eliana made a run towards her. Her hands gave her mother's shoulder a hard shove that was strong enough to send her flying to the ground.

Clenching her teeth tightly, she straightened her back and grabbed at her dagger, pointing it towards the old lord. The man merely chuckled and a couple crossbows pointed towards her. She heard the strings release before she felt the pain. In fact, it took her far longer to feel it than she normally would have.

Catelyn's head hit the floor with an echoing thud, her hands failing to steady her fall. Ringing, endless ringing rippled through her ears while her eyes adjusted to her surroundings. Her mind then regained its train of thoughts; she hadn't been thrown to the ground as a hope to be injured, she'd been pushed out-of-the-way.  _Lia_... Her eyes darted around wildly in search for her daughter.

A muffled cry escaped her lips when she caught sight of her children. Her daughter's back was to her but she could see the two arrows protruding from her body; one lodged in abdomen, the one had found its way into her right shoulder. Then there was Robb, he too had been showered with arrows: one in his chest, shoulder and another in his leg. She tried to call them to her but her cries did not reach them.

Commotion, there was commotion everywhere; screaming; shouting. Death was all around the hall, blood and death.

Eliana clasped her dagger tightly though she could feel the leather hilt sliding through her fingers as she tried to regain the once strong hold, prepared to kill anyone who approached her family. She caught sight of her brother's wife and her heart sunk in her chest; she was already gone, no longer stroking the bloodied bump rounding her stomach. Despite not liking her, she nevr wished for the woman to be murdered.

Among all the commotion, there was only one thing the King in the North could see: his queen, the first to suffer the wounded pride. Even from the stone floor, he could see her bloodied, lifeless body. The pain from his wounds was nothing compared to the pit of despair drowning within him. His thoughts flew to Grey Wind suddenly, wondering what they'd done to his wolf, certain they'd butchered him as well;  _kill the king, his queen, his unborn child and his direwolf. Tear down the banners; butcher the Wolves so the Lions can rule once again._

" _The King in the North arises_." Walder cackled.

Robb had to go to her. He crawled forwards, the pain and the hole in his heart forcing him to his queen, already lying lifeless before him. He scooped her up, ignoring the mocking words coming from the Lord of the Crossing, sitting still atop his table, alive and boasting. Mere moments ago the very same table was filled with laughter and two newlyweds, only the gods knew where they were now.

Eliana felt another sharp pain.  _Knives_  she thought,  _no... more arrows_. Her knees buckled beneath her and then she was falling to the floor, leaning over to control her breathing to make sure she didn't pass out. She wouldn't die on her brother, and she wouldn't die on her mother. She started coughing, feeling bile rise in her throat but when she looked down she'd been mistaken. It was blood.

Catelyn let out soundless cries of pain, seeing the third arrow enter. Her eyes flickered to Robb who was cradling his foreign queen in his arms. Moving further beneath the table, her leg brushed against something sharp that cut into her leg. Her eyes fell to the stone floor and she grasped the knife tightly, and from across the hall Catelyn targeted Joyeuse Frey cowering under the table by her Lord's legs.

With all her strength, Eliana made herself stand having enough of the charade Frey had pulled. Her chest was screaming for release, but she knew better than to pull an arrow free from her body, especially if she wasn't ready to die. Her bones had seized in the short time she'd stilled... she'd never felt such a pain before, a searing burn from within her.

Walder Frey's eyes glistened joyfully as he zeroed in on the Stark Girl. " _The beauty arises..._ " He announced, drawing the attention to her. He brought his goblet to his lips and drank, tilted his head in wonder. The hall fell silent for a moment as all turned to stare. Walder waved his hand in the air and another arrow came whizzing towards her.

Arrows were still flying from all the corners in the room. Angry yells and shrieks of agony were drowning a tune that had long ceased to be heard yet it would not end.  _Boom. Boom_.

As her glassy eyes followed the arrow through the air, Catelyn let out a cry when her body hit the floor with a thud. The bolt had lodged itself high in her chest, the force of its attack throwing her back onto the floor below. She tried to get to her but she fell to the floor when her back exploded in a storm of pain and she realised she must've been shot with an arrow; but she didn't give in. She tried to crawl towards her but her path was blocked by a growing wall of bodies that were dotting the floor.

Seeing her chance after observing Walder for long enough to see his eyes were trained on her children, Catelyn rushed from beneath the table and made to grab Joyeuse. Wrapping a hand around her collar, not sparing her any pity Catelyn then dragged her down the steps that led to the high table and made her stand. "Lord Walder!" Catelyn exclaimed as the old man looked to her, the archers above focusing their weapons in her direction.

"Lord Walder, enough! Let it end!" Catelyn begged, wanting him to stop and reconsider this act of betrayal. "Please... he is my son.  _My first son._ Let him go and I swear that we will forget this, I swear it by the old gods and new. We will take no vengeance." She vowed, swinging the knife she'd taken under his wife's throat, ready to let her bleed with one swift swipe.

"You already swore me one oath right here in my castle. You swore by all the gods your son would marry my daughter!" Walder declared, a never before seen fury rising into his eyes as he held Catelyn's gaze.

But she wasn't prepared to give up then and there; she would see Robb to safety and she would most certainly not give in. " _Take me for a hostage, but let Robb_   _go_." She continued, turning to face her son who was still on the floor, cradling Talisa in his arms. "Robb, get up. Get up and walk out. Please!  _Please!_ "

"And why would I let him do that?" Replied the old man from his high chair with a smirk on his face.

She felt her anger return in those few seconds her eyes landed on the man who had brought her family another betrayal. "On my honour as a Tully, on my honour as a Stark, let him go or I will cut your wife's throat." The blade strained against Joyeuse porcelain skin, the hand in her hair tightening while Catelyn's words drowned in pique.

Not looking remotely bothered by Catelyn's threat, Walder shrugged weakly. "I'll find another."

Tentatively, Robb placed his wife back on the floor, wishing she would wake just one more time, smile at him...  _anything_  but he knew better than that. He didn't want to let her go, leave her all alone. But as much as it pained him to so, he dragged himself up, every movement he made required more effort than usual, his limbs cried out, still, he managed it. "Mother." Robb rasped, begging her to stop with her worthless pleading. Nothing would help, nor stop his death or the fall of the North.

And then it all happened so quickly, "The Lannisters send their regards..." Roose Bolton whispered in Robb Stark's ear before plunging the knife into his chest, right through his heart. The blade felt cold, it almost made Robb shiver as his knees buckled and soon he was falling, falling fast before Catelyn's eyes.

She jolted back to life with startle; a scream that rung through her ears. As much as it pained her, Eliana tilted her head and soon she felt a warm liquid clinging to the side of her face when she tried to look to her brother, instead they froze on her brother's falling body. "Robb..." She murmured, her eyes stinging at the sight, a sob emerging from within her throat.  _No..._

Catelyn was in a heap on the floor, crying endlessly; she'd lost control of her body and her emotions and the world ceased to exist for her. All of a sudden, the pain her back was gone, she didn't feel anything as her own hand slashed the young hostage's throat. She heard a thud and wasn't quite sure who had fallen on the floor, she couldn't see through the veil of tears and blood covering her face, the room had fallen silent in a dissonance of sounds.

Thinking of her losses, she could feel her heartbeat slowly coming to a stop. She had lost so much: Ned, Eliana and Robb murdered, Bran and Rickon killed by an ally, Arya was lost  _most likely_ dead, Sansa imprisoned in King's Landing, her father dead, her brother would most likely be killed as well and she couldn't bear to think of what they would do to her uncle.  _I'm coming, Ned, wait for me..._

The hall was littered with bodies, and blood ran like a river... just like Walder had said.

Edwyn Frey's eyes were intent on one body, as her life blood streamed through the silk tunic she wore. Two bolts stood tall in her chest, another lodged high in her shoulder, the final lurking in her stomach and she was breathing in fast, sharp gasps. Her auburn hair was soaked with blood, and the torchlight flickering seemed to make it look alive.

Edwyn stalked towards the body and kicked her side vigorously. She groaned and her head turned sharp, blue eyes on him, glazed with pain and disturbance and he couldn't help but feel contrition from issuing her with more pain. "She's still alive."

Walder Frey turned to Edwyn, raising an eyebrow and soon demanded, " _Then kill her_."

Drawing his dagger, he held it above her heart. The woman - though she looked more like a child in that moment - closed her eyes as if waiting for him to end it all. The dagger shook over her heart, that still furiously pumped blood through her body, struggling to keep her alive. Guilt crushed Edwyn, like a poison infecting him, weighing heavy on his heart. Killing in the midst of a battle was one thing, but cold-blooded murder of a wounded woman was entirely different.

He hesitated.

"Do it Edwyn, before I do it myself!" Black Rivers hollered, nearing Catelyn. "The traitorous bitch deserves to watch them die...  _her little pups_."

Still, he hesitated. The stone blue eyes opened again, and seemed to be silently begging for liberation, for death. The gift of mercy Edwyn had granted himself with. One swift swipe and the pain would float away and she could finally rest. However, he stood from kneeling and shook his head. "No."  _No more murder..._

Walder's head tilted, wondering when Edwyn had become a cowardly pig, always knowing him to be a cold man. " _No?_ " Old Walder asked, sitting forward in his seat. "Useless... useless! You dare deny me of my wish? I should cut out your tongue."

Several bastards moved forward, eager to please Walder if Edwyn wasn't willing.

"No." Edwyn said as all clarity left him. Edwyn soon found himself wondering why he was defending the woman lying near dead on the floor. Then another thought struck him from nowhere, one that would please his great-grandfather... and perhaps  _even_  Lord Tywin.

"Why not let them both live?" Edwyn asked. Everyone nearby stood and stared at him, horror-struck. Walder laughed, but it was the false, sickening high-pitched laugh that he used to humour the lords of the north.

"You mock us," Called his brother, Black Rivers. "You want this stain left upon our family?!"

Edwyn shook his head at their misunderstanding of his intentions. "It's no jape brother, half-brother... whatever you are,  _I don't care_. This girl and her mother are traitors to the crown. I believe a public execution would be more prudent; for Tywin Lannister." The laughter died. "He might be as generous to offer a Lannister, Cersei or maybe Prince Tommen even to us for a marriage. We can make deals; get our payment in both glory and wealth."

A slow, sly smile stretched across Walder's face. "Had I'd known of your cunning Edwyn, I would've taken your contributions more seriously. You've yet to surprise us all... Lord Tywin will wish for a public execution, which of course we will attend." Walder concluded, clapping his hands together. "Help up the girl!"

Edwyn bowed his head and slipped his hands under her arms and hauled her to her feet, wrapping his arm around her waist to support her. He heard her mutter his name under her breath and he turned his head to look at her.

" _The night is dark and full of terrors..._ " She whispered in his ear, confusing the man with the words but unknown to him up her sleeve she clutched her righteous dagger. Edwyn's brow deepened in thought. As if from nothing, all thoughts left him when she plunged her blade through his skull and twisted before withdrawing it again and throwing him aside, dead.

First Edwyn fell, followed by two more bastards. She moved quickly despite her wound; and soon had Eliana caught Black Rivers as he tried to make it to her mother and hooked the knife under his chin, restraining him. "Let my mother and I go, send word to Tywin Lannister... inform him of our arrival." She threatened, staring directly at Walder Frey, her gaze not faltering for a single moment.

Walder scoffed. "You won't make it there alive, any fool knows that."

"Are you struggling with your hearing old man?!" Eliana growled, her voice rippling along the hollow walls. "We're of far more worth to Tywin Lannister alive than dead, you will be rich... lots of coin for your pocket."

"You will die."

"Aye." Eliana's blade cut into Black Rivers throat, drawing blood as she slowly cut into his throat. "I may die, I do not care for my life but I would see my mother to safety." Her voice was hard and defiant. "I am the only the one thing that stops all of Dorne rallying behind Stannis Baratheon!"

Walder paused, taking her words into consideration. He knew that Dorne held dangerous warriors; Oberyn Martell, the Sand Snakes and he'd heard of Markas Allyrion... but knowing he would receive coin and a seat beyond compare, he nodded. "Fine, go." He waved his hand and the doors were hauled open.

They pulled Catelyn to her feet and dragged her to the wooden doors where she was thrown from the hall. Drowning in her own grief, she was too worked up to notice as Brienne pulled her up and helped her along.

Eliana couldn't bring herself to move, knowing that Walder Frey would still be breathing when she left this hall; he'd gotten away with murder and she couldn't let that happen. Taking a small, easily concealed dagger into her hands and felt the cool object leave her grasp when she brought it over her head. A few inches from his head, there sat the dagger swaying side-to-side uneasily upon impact.

The tall woman paused when she saw Eliana stumble through the door, coughing. "Eliana?" She gaped when she saw the gallery of arrows that littered her torso. "Let me help you..."

" _Brienne, help my mother_."


	26. Wolf Pelts

Ferocity was a dark cloud, hanging over families and spilling raindrops on everything good in the world... not that Eliana was unfamiliar with the feeling of being put in such danger; she was unable to process so much in the moment she stepped from the walls and allowed her eyes to adjust.

There was death and blood everywhere; the shrieks of their men fat perfectly with the hammering drums that once again began to sound from the hall. Even as she spared the dying men a look, she knew she couldn't help them,  _she couldn't help herself_. The crossbow bolts in her body stung uncontrollably and she sought nothing more than to pull them out but that would only make things worse.

Her chest was restricted even as she strode sluggishly through the field of pandemonium, struggling to follow Brienne as she vanished in and out of her line of view when the fire began to mess with her vision. She could feel the life seeping from within her and she knew she wouldn't last long. She was dying, gradually and agonisingly. She could see Brienne assisting her mother as she helped her climb atop a horse before moving to grab the reigns of two others.

_The King in the North!_

_The King in the North!_

She jolted back to reality when the pounding returned, but not the pounding or music but of a chant. At first she thought Frey had sent a party after them, changing his unruly mind but it was when she turned that she saw the true significance behind the chanting.

_The King in the North!_

_The King in the North!_

She demanded she was truly dead then, she wished she'd died in that hall with her brother rather than having to witness this, because what her eyes found right in that moment ruined her life.

His arms had been forced behind his back, positioned and nailed to the post that was at his back keeping it rigid and still as it held up his unbalanced body. Her brother sat butchered atop a horse, being led along by a band of soldiers. As the group marched towards her, Eliana began to drown in her own dread, feeling bile rise within her and making her want to throw up.

He had no head, _he did_ , but it was not his own.

There were no auburn curls and no blue eyes, instead where his head should have been, bloodied fur wisped in the breeze. The eyes flashed sadly in the fiery torchlight, glistening in the darkness of the night of terror. The mouth hung open and the tongue swung indolently as the horse was guided through the courtyard.

Her brother's head had been struck off and substituted with that of his direwolf's.  _Both Robb and Grey Wind butchered so the Lions could rule…_

Resentment surged through her and she was practically ready to return to that hall where such a grievous attack occurred, ready to finish what she intended to do at a later date when she stilled unexpectedly. Sensing as though she was being watched, Eliana regarded her right and cemented herself to the ground when her eyes stilled. Her little sister was there, looking petrified and powerless of moving, her eyes glue to her as she stood a mere feet away from her.  _She is alive, Arya is alive._

She wasn't lost like they had all alleged, not dead as they strained to make her believe. But how she would have preferred for her to not see such a thing; to not see Robb violated and dishonoured against his will. She watched her eyes trail to the arrows protruding from her body, she also witnessed the trepidation entre her eyes.

Eliana gazed as she tried to run to her but only to be hauled back by a robust pair of hands; she was in the talons of the Hound, yet Eliana knew that Arya would be safe with him. The man was a survivor. She was more anxious of her being in a dwelling like this because she knew she would try something rational and risk her own life.

And she couldn't let that happen, and as much as it pained her to do it she snatched a torch and hurled it to the ground to ensure there was no way for Arya to reach her. It was when the tears fell from her sister's eyes that Eliana's heart broke.

However, the Hound understood her silent missive, dragging Arya to a stray horse before moving to grasp for a banner representing House Frey.

Reluctantly, Eliana backed away from the scene, turning to go in search for Brienne and her Mother, a large part of her hoping she would find Arya some day and reunite her with their mother. However, another worry sprouted; she remembered how immense the North was.

But she wouldn't lose Arya like she lost Robb, and her father. Bran and Rickon, too. She wouldn't…  _no more would die_.

* * *

The dark shadows of the voluminous trees and puzzled bushes had become the structure of the forest as the parade of horses galloped along. The trees stood proud and tall as protectors of the exigent grounds, as the impregnated bushes that had consumed the hard regions of the forest, concealed the insignificant structure that stood hidden under the vast canopy of silhouettes beneath the vibrant portals of the open sky.

Jaime's party stopped that night at a tavern just off the Kingsroad in Duskendale. Knowing how close they were drawing to King's Landing, Jaime felt certain that someone were to recognise him, but if they did, they kept to themselves.

Jaime had one of Bolton's men pay the innkeeper for two rooms, there were no spare beds yet the soldier was wise to remember that the depth of Lannister pockets was very appealing and so, he bartered with a small group of merchants, who favoured coin over comfort and acquired another two rooms. It was scorching in the tavern, too full of strangers all too comfortable with bumping into one another as they sang, and drank and laughed.

At the bar, a plump flushed-faced knight was amusing a fascinated crowd - many of them were Steelshanks's men - of news from the Riverlands. Jaime had nearly forgotten Edmure Tully, but it made complete sense that people would chinwag, and weddings were always popular to gossip about these days despite the war going on. Jaime had paused though, listening to what the man was saying.

"They're calling it the Red Wedding... I've never heard anything like it. The Starks were protected by the Guest Right and the Frey's slaughtered them at the dinner table!"

Jaime grasped the man's forearm to get his attention, and studied his face. "Do you mean to tell me that the Frey's murdered Robb Stark? Robb Stark is dead?" He queried, denial rushing forward. The King in the North couldn't be dead… could he?

"And his foreign lady wife! Slain at his  _own_  Uncle's wedding! They say his head was struck off and his wolf's sewn on in its stead! Marched him along..." The fat knight proclaimed too jolly for his own good. Although he tried to sound disgusted by the news, it was obvious that he was relishing in telling the ghastly tale. It wasn't the first time he'd told it, that was for definite.

"And his mother and sister, Lady Catelyn and Lady Eliana... what of them?" Jaime pressed, thinking of their promised oath and thinking of Eliana.

The knight sighed, "Murdered while begging for her son's life apparently... throat slit from ear to ear they say. They then stripped her down naked and threw her into the trident - I s'spose it's the proper way to mock the Tully's funeral tradition." The knight clicked his tongue, "Though, I s'spose they had it coming to them, they were never going to win this war -"

And then he asked when to ask the question he'd been dreaded to comprehend. "And what of Eliana Stark?" Jaime's voice was raised and angered.

The fat knight shrugged in reply, "She took down a hefty number of Frey troops but they shot her full of arrows, the bitch wouldn't die but I s'pect her head's probably lying somewhere..." He answered, eyeing the man before him, trying to place him.

 _No…_ Eliana was dead? He'd seen her less than three days ago alive and well and she was apparently dead? Driven mad with a sudden hysteria, a feeling he'd never experienced before but since meeting Eliana, he found himself constantly worrying for the girl.

Unable to contain himself any longer, drowning with guilt as he refused to settle upon a decision; he should have never left her alone with Roose Bolton but if he hadn't, he wouldn't be close to seeing Cersei again. For all the affection he bore for the Beauty of the North, Jaime turned on his heel and marched back out into the pouring rain.

Turning to see Jaime disappearing, Steelshanks ran after him. "Ser Jaime, where are you going?!" The leader of his party called after him, rushing through the door and attempting to stop the cripple.

"To get her back!"

* * *

A missive arrived late in the night, disturbing the time that Tywin should have been sleeping, though he found himself unable to do so of late. His mind was far too disturbing to contemplate doing such a thing with a war of such going on. But perhaps tonight he could put his mind to rest and find some solace for the missive withheld long awaited news.

_Lord Tywin Lannister,_

_Hand of the King,_

_Lord Paramount of the West and Warden of the West,_

_Lord of Casterly Rock,_

_Roslin caught a fine fat trout. Her brothers gave her a pair of wolf pelts for her wedding. Though our celebration seemed to rattle the mother and her pup; they ran off in an awful hurry._

_Lord Walder Frey,_

_Lord of the Crossing,_ _The Twins._

The King in the North was dead.

The Red Wedding was what the realm had chosen to name it. Tywin Lannister sat alone, the missive from Walder Frey latent on the desk in front of him, he concurred it was an appropriate name for what the small folk and High Lords both had chosen to refer to as an obscenity. It was true that Robb Stark was an oath breaker, desperately lacking the renowned honour of his father and grandfather before him when he chose to break the sacred vow to marry one of Walder Frey's many daughters, but he had been promised the Guest Right, and by the laws of gods both Old and New, he and all his people were to be protected. And knowing that Eliana Stark was still alive, Tywin knew no good would come of being betrayed in such a way.

The Fall of the North had already begun to be relived through song and story _,_ that much Tywin did know, but the song was  _The Rains of Castamere_ , and the story was the constant reminder that every one would soon remember; that the Lannisters pay their debts.

If he was honest with himself, he had acquired a queer sort of esteem for Robb Stark that even left Tywin feeling staggered. The boy had been fledgling and naïve, whose soldierly skill up until the War of the Five Kings had unquestionably been in friendly combat between his sister and bastard brother and even perhaps the Greyjoy lad, but the Young Wolf had proven himself far more hazardous than anyone could have expected, taking every solitary victory in every single battle fought.

The boy had been familiar with warfare all his life, and not even Tywin Lannister could repudiate that, alike if every Lord in the South and the West insisted on calling the King in the North a boy. The Lion of Lannister mused at the thought, moving to bring his glowing goblet of wine to his lips, reminiscing that the Reynes and Tarbecks had once said the same about him.

_And where are they now? Dead, they're houses destroyed root and stem._

Tywin Lannister and Robb Stark shared many skilled mutual areas, more than anyone in the Seven Kingdoms would even bother to acknowledge, but Tywin himself could admit it without a care in the world, setting aside his wine, his eyes trailing to the sheet of parchment resting on his desk. Robb Stark had immediately marched South to avenge his father after he had been wrongfully beheaded by his young and imprudent grandson. When Tywin was not much older than Robb, he too marched against the Reynes and the Tarbecks when both of those Houses dared to rise against his father Tytos.

_And they learned their lesson._

Across the realm, Southerner's spoke of the Young Wolf as being a legend rather than a man, while the same breath of the Northmen and the River Lords whispered Tywin's name only in hushed voices, him being a myth in their eyes. For all they shared, there was one crucial difference between Tywin Lannister and the late Robb Stark, and that was the knowledge of knowing it took more than  _just_ swords to win a war.

The Young Wolf had learned as much when Roose Bolton shunted a blade through his heart, but by then it had been too late. Robb Stark had broken his oath for some foreigner who brought nothing to the war or to House Stark for that matter. Meanwhile, House Lannister gradually became more immense and more commanding with each new day, and with newly forged marriages and alliances. Robb Stark had personally executed Rickard Karstark, when the man had been charged with treason, taking the Lord's head while losing half his forces in the process.

_How foolish he had been..._

However, while all that was occurring in the North, in South all Lords of the Reach, including Mace Tyrell bent the knee to King Joffrey, House Tyrell soon rising through the ranks to evolve into their most appreciated ally in the War. Robb Stark may have won every battle with his sword, but Tywin won the utmost battle of all: the battle of words. He had heard it said before that words were always mightier than the sword, his father had told him as much and all it took for Tywin to win the war was by sending a series of missives, and a handful of promises.

Though, there was something inside of Tywin that refused to be satisfied with Robb Stark's death; the Red Wedding was something that needed to happen, and he would do it again without hesitation if it meant victory... but Robb Stark had a been a worthy enemy, one that Tywin longed to face, and slowly he found himself raising his goblet once again.

"To the King in the North!" Tywin toasted aloud in his empty chamber, with nothing but the silhouettes of old memories to offer him comfort, the Young Wolf being the most worthy opponent that the Lord of Casterly Rock had faced in  _such_ a long time.

He took another swig of his drunk, his thoughts drifting to the Wedding that had won the War of the Five Kings for him and soon a familiar tune came to mind when he closed his eyes. Tywin in that moment remembered the day that rain wept over the halls of Castamere, it was a song that defined who  _he_  was and what  _his_  family stood for in Westeros, and for a moment Tywin wondered what the songs would now hold, about the Night that Winter Fell.

"Yes, now the rains weep o'er his hall," Tywin Lannister hummed softly, while he reached for his quill and began to scratch against the parchment, staining it with ink. "And not a soul to hear."

_Lord Walder Frey,_

_Lord of the Crossing,_ _The Twins,_

_Why not hunt down your own pair of wolf pelts to keep you warm at night, although, I would very much like to have my very own pair - as they once said, winter is coming._

_Lord Tywin Lannister,_

_Hand of the King,_

_Lord Paramount of the West and Warden of the West,_

_Lord of Casterly Rock._


	27. The night is dark... and full of terrors.

She thought they were safe from the wrath of Walder Frey, but she'd been foolish enough to dream of something that would most definitely never come true in her dizziest daydreams. Of course, he would hunt them down.

A horn sounded somewhere in the night. Once. Twice. Three times. And for the hundredth time that night, Eliana knew they were in danger yet again. She bumped elbows with Brienne as they both reached for their swords, ready for the final stand.

The enemy was upon them, it had been obvious that Walder Frey would send a hunting party after them, none were foolish enough to think they had escaped his clutches so easily.

And then everything exploded into chaos, shattering the night. The wind whipped and the darkness was complete and everything was wrong.

As Eliana pulled her blade free from the chest of one, she glanced around her to see all but a whisp of colour; Brienne had taken on a couple of soldiers with Shadow fighting as an aid at her side. However, it wasn't until her eyes stilled on the scene before her did she snap back to reality but her eyes widened as her mother collapsed backwards, colliding painfully with the solid earth, wielding only her hands as a shield to protect her from the attack.

Rather than choosing to think the action through, she chose to not waste anymore time. Not sparing another second to think over her actions, Eliana darted to her mother, hoping desperately that she wasn't too late. Blood rushed through her ears, her heart beating wildly as if it would break through her ribcage while it tried to pump life through her, her thoughts melding together, she could barely hear the domineering, harsh voices of the Freys anymore.

She was in agony.

A man lurched towards her and adrenaline surged through Eliana, and she shoved her sword forward, feeling satisfied by the sound of flesh separated by a blade. Yet, all this fighting would never bring Robb back, or her father, or Bran and Rickon.

The soldier fell before her – before the feet of another Frey soldier. The man's disconcertingly light eyes narrowed as they fell upon Eliana, a snarl on his vile, scarred lips. While Eliana knew she had a chance against him, she wasn't about to up and leave Catelyn for dead. Yes, she'd proven to be quite malicious, and her words were hurtful, but Eliana was not so much a coward that she'd run away at a time like this and leave her mother alone to die.

She couldn't breathe.

She swung her sword, sparing a glance at the man, who was merely cackling. She swallowed thickly, eyes wide and heart in er throat; She couldn't defend her mother – she could barely defend herself! "You lot really don't know when to stay away!" She shouted, voice almost shrill as she hacked at another.

She was going to die.

Roaring in fury, the Frey soldier reeled back before charging forward. Eliana lifted her sword, though as she swung as quickly as she could, his scimitar sliced deeply into her shoulder, embedding and sticking there. She choked on her breath as the metal forced itself deeper into the incision, tearing at flesh and muscle, and then was yanked forcefully back out. Her knees buckled and she collapsed, heaving on the ground, shoulder throbbing so intensely that her vision grew somewhat shrouded.

But Catelyn… was still vulnerable. Eliana couldn't fight the Freys, and couldn't even defend herself, but… she could shield her mother. She tried to stand, legs shaking like trees in a hurricane, and fell beside her mother, her sword slipping through her hands, now covered in wet blood. She breathed heavily, leaning over her mother, forcing herself to remain upright.

Eliana scrambled for her blade, grabbing for it weakly and lifting it to block the soldier's blade – but it met her first.

The blade slithered through her chest, cutting through her clothes and piercing her skin. She thought she gasped, but she couldn't even do that much, and could only make a choked noise before falling. Eliana caught herself at the last minute with her good arm, heaving and shaking.

Bracing herself for the next blow, still grasping her sword, but jumping in surprise when she heard a loud cry. Jerking her head upwards, she couldn't help but smile as Shadow took out the Frey with one swipe, his jaw latched around his neck.

Blood sputtered from her lips and soon she found all her sudden energy was replaced with the feeling of dying. Numb, she was numb everywhere. She couldn't feel anything, she was sure she was dead but she could hear her mother screaming and then her nightmare began again.

It was a horrible noise. Low and full with distress, like a sick cow, that drew Catelyn's attention to her daughter. There was a large wound over her front, made all the more noticeable by the blood leaking out of it as Catelyn pulled her into her arms.

Eliana's blue eyes were open, but Catelyn could tell that it pained her to do so. Her dark hair was matted and clung to her sweaty skin. Her breathing pained her, no longer did she have an air of pride around her. All Catelyn could sense was death surrounding her, ready to take her in its cold embrace.

"Mother..."

Catelyn shook her head, sucking in a deep breath while struggling to keep down her sobs as she looked down at her daughter. "Don't move, don't move... lie still." She ordered, rocking her gently, wiping to blood free from her mouth. "Brienne, help me! We need to get her back onto her horse..."

The woman turned on her heel and saw what had happened as she'd been disposing of the other Frey's. Her eyes widened when she saw Eliana lying there, bleeding out on the ground. Her fate was clear. "My lady, she's too weak... she won't -" Brienne stopped herself.

"She will live, I will not allow her to die." Catelyn rasped. "Lia, look at me."

Eliana smiled when she met her mother's eyes. "When faced with death, what can anyone do but fight until the bitter end?"

"No, no... Eliana, no!"

She clasped Catelyn's hand and licked her lips so she could continue to speak. "I am sorry that I made you a part of my perils... that I purposely brought upon our family because I believed it right. I never wished any of it..."

"No!" She cried out, smiling sadly. "I am glad to have shared in your perils."

"Mother..." Eliana's grip slackened on her hand. "It's all right. If only more of us valued family above power, it would be a far happier world." She paused to inhale a desperate breath before she even contemplated to continue to speak. "Death is only a door. When it closes, another opens. If I cared to imagine a heaven of sorts, I would imagine a door opening and behind it, I would find  _them_  there - everything I did, I did for them."

As she lay there, she heard her Lady mother scream for her to keep her eyes open.  _I am dying_ , Eliana thought. Her vision began to get blurry, and suddenly she thought of all the people she loved.

Her father, the man she'd never stopped loving; her first love. She missed him so much, she missed his laugh and his special smile he gave her and she couldn't but hope if she was to die, she would see him once more. Her mother. As much as she tried to not think of it, Eliana couldn't begin to imagine what would happened to her mother, watching all her children dying around her while she continued to live on.

Robb, her partner in crime as he'd always been, her brother who hadn't deserved to die so young was dead. So young and naive, never knowing anything different. She soon found herself thinking about Jon, who was not only her brother, but one of her best friends all the same. He was at the Wall right at that moment, and Eliana remembered the promise she and Robb had made to Bran before they left Winterfell, that they would visit him. That would never happen...

Then she thought of her beautiful sister Sansa, the girl with hair and eye colour exactly the same as hers, the little girl who loved lemoncakes and used to beg her to read her stories before bed. If only they could read once more... Arya wouldn't have liked that, her feisty little wolf would rather play with swords with her, Robb and Jon. But they didn't mind, Eliana had always found it quite brave of her, to be wild and to be free just like she was.

And Bran and Rickon, who always looked up at her and Robb. Eliana missed spending time with her little brothers, but they were dead, burned by Theon Greyjoy. Perhaps she would see them soon...

Somehow, Eliana always knew it was to end this way. Well,  _perhaps not this way_ , with a man and a sword rushing to her stomach, but she always felt the ghost of treason upon them. The Independence of the North had been nothing more than a bedtime story, such as Old Nan used to tell them at night as children, when they couldn't sleep, to soothe them.

She was brought from her thoughts when she heard her mother pleading with someone, but for the life of her, she couldn't open her eyes. Though, she still tried and caught sight of a man, she couldn't place him.

"Save her." Catelyn begged in despair. "Don't let her die."

Eliana winced when she felt the bolts being yanked free from her body as she laid their helpless to stop them.  _No, don't..._ she wanted to yell, but couldn't find the strength or willpower to do so.

Someone else took her into their arms and paused. "She has the light... he resides within her." The man stated, feeling warmth within her body. "Perhaps I can save her still... Lord of Light cast your light upon this child." He took her head in his lap and began muttering under his breath, pressing his forehead to hers. "Bring her back from death and darkness, protect her with your light... make her strong, make her powerful, make her just. Her flame has been extinguished.  _Restore it_."

"Restore her of all her goodness and purity, her innocence and guilt. She is not yet finished in this world of ours, she has a purpose.  _For the night is dark_   _and full of terrors._ _Lord, cast..._ "

* * *

She didn't know where she was at first, but it wasn't long before she recognised her surroundings and for the first time in a while, she felt at home. She always loved the Heart Tree in Winterfell because she felt at peace when she visited unlike her mother, who constantly reminded her of the feeling of being an outcast. To tell the truth, this is the only place Eliana ever felt she belonged.

However, the serenity was destroyed when a man strolled by her, a smile tugging at his lips. "Skoros morghot vestri?" He questioned, observing her curiously.

She felt her frustration getting the better of her, her lips taut and stretched. "Pardon?" She pressed, wanting to be alone... she only came here with her father and he wasn't here. "Who are you?" It came out more as a sob than she would've liked.

The man sighed, turning to the pool of murky water. "The question is, who..." He peered over the edge, kneeling slowly. He turned his head back to her and frowned, "... are you?"

She laughed breathlessly, "Good question... I thought I knew, but now I cannot be certain."

"I know who you are." He sent her a quick glance before turning back to the water as though he said nothing at all. "Skoros morghot vestri? Tubī daor!"

Either way, Eliana didn't care, the man was getting on her nerves and she wished for nothing more than to be alone. "Enough!" Eliana exclaimed from irritation of his persistence of repeating the phrase. She didn't even know this man and she was dead... what was he doing there and why was he with her? And what did that phrase even mean? "What is that supposed to mean, anyway?"

"Never you mind!"

Eliana's eyes hardened and she folded her arms over her chest, her eyes burning into the back of his head. "I think you're a little confused." She opined, deadpan.

"Sadly, I'm not the one who's confused. You don't even know who you are!"

However, Eliana found herself not in the mood for his foolish games and knew her patience was wearing drastically thin. "Oh, and I suppose you know? You do not know me..."

The man scoffed and slowly settled upon a fallen tree trunk, peering up at her with a smile. "I hardly believe that child, your father was Eddard Stark."

Frowning, Eliana turned back to face the man, clearly shaken by his statement. She opened her mouth but no words came out and she realise she was obviously a little taken back by his words. She shook her head and cleared her throat. "Y- you knew my father?"

"I know your father..." The man corrected lightly.

Her eyes trailed to the ground and a deep sigh soon followed, drowning with grief. "I hate to tell you this but he died. A long time ago now." She whispered quietly.

"He is my son..." He affirmed, his brow deepening in disappointment? "I am shamed to see you have forgotten your grandfather although I am hardly surprise since the last time you laid eyes upon me you were three years of age. Time has passed since then."

She was embarrassed to admit she did not recognise him; his hair had lightened significantly almost turning a cloudy grey, conversely, he still wore his long, stern face but it was at peace and he didn't look as scary as she remembered him looking.  _It couldn't be him_ , she immediately thought after. Her grandfather died in King's Landing, murdered by Aerys II while five hundred men stood and watched.

"You're not my grandfather." Eliana denied, shaking her head softly.  _I would have recognised him otherwise..._

He nodded, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Perhaps not, but I am appearing to you now in a time of need." He held out his hand, gesturing for her to follow him as he moved away from where she stood rooted to the ground. "Come child, look down there."

Tentatively, Eliana walked to the edge of the lake and peered inside. Her reflection stared back at her. "That's not my father, that's just my reflection." She took back and closed her eyes, bowing her head.

"No. Look harder." He commanded gently, touching the water which caused the waves to change Eliana's reflection into Eddard. Rickard smiled. "You see? He lives in you."

She shook her head, not willing to believe something so petty and unimaginable. "This is a dream."

"We all live in you."

Rickard's fingers curled around her shoulder, sending a comforting warmth along her back to fill her chest. "Eliana, look at me." Rickard called her to him, wanting her to actually stop and understand what he was telling her. "Eliana, you have forgotten us. The way we live, the way we survive." He paused, watching as she gradually met his gaze.

"You have forgotten who you are and so have forgotten us." He trailed off when she glanced away again. "Look inside yourself Eliana; you are more than what you have become. You must take your place in this world and you must save our family..."

Eliana nodded absently.

" _Remember who you are_. You are the daughter of my son and the one true heir to the North." Rickard explained forcefully, almost drilling the sentence into her head before repeating his words. " _Remember who you are_."

Her voice was shaky when she spoke, unstable and haggard. "What if I fail?" It came out as a whisper, a gush of fear.

He smiled at her fear of not being able to follow through his wish, but he respected that; her being worried of failing her family would give her all the more aspiration to succeed. "Then you will learn from your mistakes and try again. All blunders are lessons."

" _Do us justice... do it for us, child._ "

* * *

Catelyn looked between them, wide-eyed and frightened. "What's happening?" Neither of the bearded men answered her and that only fuelled her worry even more. "What are you doing to her?!" She thrashed out the grasp of one of the men, trying to free herself but failing.

"Would you look at that," Thoros smiled, marvelled at his growing power. He pulled back and held her head in his hands, his eyes managed to capture hers after a moment. "Hello child..." His voice was soft, a greeting to welcome her back from her short passing. "The Lord of Light protects you with his fiery heart." Thoros moved to check the wound at her stomach and saw it was partially healed but still weeping blood. The bolt wounds, however, were completely healed. " _The night is dark and full of terrors_... but you will prevail them all with your strength."

Catelyn crawled to her side and caught sight of the scars left by the bolts through the holes of her tunic. "How did you- ?" She stared up at the man from Myr in wonder.

Beric allowed his hand to fall upon Catelyn's shoulder, drawing her back to him. "She is a child of the Lord of Light, he protects all who serve him. He watches over all his children." Beric smiled and bowed his head to Catelyn, "My lady, I served your husband upon his stay in the capital... his murder was treason alone. I bid you to travel with us; her wounds are partially healed, they will still need to be purified before they fester... we can offer you aid."

Brienne stepped in unexpectedly, "How do we know we can trust you?" The woman glowered. "We trusted the Boltons and the Freys and they committed treason at the turn of the tide. What's to say you won't do the same?"

"My lady, I admired your husband - both in spirit and in life. He was a just man who followed his father and brother to the grave far before his time." Beric informed the two women. "I wish to only repay the kindness he bore me."

Still hesitant from their monstrous betrayal, Catelyn went to answer when a shout ripped through the wind and cut her off.

"Lady Stark!"

Catelyn's head jolted up in fright, wiping her tears from her eyes she tried to locate where the voice had come from, ignoring the sound of swords drawing around her. She recognised the voice, but she was too full of grief to fully remember or truly care. However, her brow dipped into a scowl when she finally realised who it was.

It was Jaime Lannister.


	28. Hard Truths

_"Lady Stark!"_

The roar of hooves upon the Kingsroad brought Brienne the Beauty to her feet quickly along with Beric and Anguy following, drawing both sword and bow at the sound of unwelcome visitors.

Though she struggled to do so, Eliana turned her head to see another company arrive and she instinctively reached for the sword she no longer had. The fire vanishing from her eyes to be replaced by a dark bleakness that Catelyn longed to comfort her but she couldn't find any words that she was sure would comfort her daughter.

Eliana winced and made to stand on her feet, wanting to be up and moving as soon as possible before she would stay down forever. Once she finally managed to secure herself on both legs, she took in a deep breath and found her chest no longer pained her to do so, though she felt a slight stinging sensation lurking somewhere.

Thoros sighed deeply, seeing that rather small group of men charging towards them on a storm of horses. The one who had shouted had already stopped, clambering off his horse in the darkness and stumbling towards them while the others trailed in an uneven and rushed manner.

"Who are you?" Steelshanks, the leader, exclaimed as he finally came to join Jaime, looking slightly unsteady while still seated upon his mount. "Where are your banners?"

Beric smiled, raising his hands before taking a cautious step towards them. "We don't bear any unfortunately... what's your business here?"

Steelshanks scoffed, sliding from his horse to stride towards Beric. "Never you mind my business, cripple." He snorted, glowering before wrinkling up his nose at Beric eye-patch.

"Then don't demand anything of me." Beric replied, his eyes shifting to the shaggy man shouldering by the ruddy man in front of him. "We are the Brotherhood without Banners and we stand over Lady Stark as her protectors."

"What's happened to her? Where's Lia?" Jaime questioned, his eyes darting around frantically, his eyes landed on the woman once more. "Lady Stark, where is your daughter?"

Already growing to hate the man, Beric stepped into his line of view, blocking Catelyn from his eyes. "Have you not heard?" Beric stared disbelievingly out of his single bloodshot eye. "The King in the North is dead... I think it best if you leave Lannister considering you had a hand in his death."

" _Dead._ "

"Aye, dead." Anguy spat. "Those treacherous bastards the Freys, murdered at a wedding while under the guest right. Lord Bolton and his men as well, they're just as guilty, may they  _all_ meet death one of these days so the fate they brought upon the Starks will once again be repaid."

Steelshanks eased his sword from its scabbard as the archer spoke; Jaime easily laid his hand on his forearm, shaking his head before anything rash occurred and preventing an unwanted fight.

"Go on," Jaime nodded, not realising how inconsiderate he was being, not fully well that Catelyn was standing right there. "What's become of Edmure Tully?"

In that moment, Catelyn didn't want Anguy or Beric to speak for her, she wanted to speak with the Kingslayer like she had when she released him. "My brother, as much as I can assume, was dragged from his bride's bed and thrown in the dungeons; he's a prisoner," She paused, glaring with hatred at the man with the rugged beard. "All the lords of the Riverlands or their heirs sit in the dungeons of the Twins."

Eliana turned when she saw Jaime gaping at her mother, thankful for the vise grip Thoros had on her elbow that kept her from sinking to the ground. She forced herself to take long breaths, filling her lungs until her dizziness subsided. When she can stand by herself, she shook off Thoros's hand.

His emerald eyes landed on her, stilling as he spotted the crimson stained dotted over the silken fabric before slowly zipping back up to her face. "Lia?" he asked, unsure of how to greet her.

She heard him, but she couldn't trust herself to speak to him, not after knowing he had a hand in her brother's murder. She didn't want to look at him and see that smug face of his, knowing that they had beaten her brother and to watch him gloat... she couldn't bear it but she was afraid, afraid that if she met his gaze she would kill him with her bare hands.

Eliana looked to the five men tied up, and sighed. "We need to move, Beric... the sun will be up soon." She informed their leader lightly, placing a hand on his shoulder as she stumbled to where her horse stood tethered. She leaned her head on the animal's neck, forcing back the tears.  _Justice for them... I will not weep for her in front of these men_.

"Looks like we're on the same side now, m'lords." Steelshanks mused, receiving a glare from both Beric and Anguy as he spoke.

"So it would seem," Thoros murmured.

* * *

Eliana rode in stony silence, remembering silently, her mind slowly coming to terms with everything. Soundlessly, Jaime came up beside her, close enough that their knees brushed. "Eliana," He started but failed to finish as she turned her head and edged her horse away from his.

_Long fingers curled around her shoulder, sending a comforting warmth along her back to fill her chest. "Eliana, look at me." Rickard called her to him, "Eliana, you have forgotten us. The way we live, the way we survive." He paused, watching as she gradually met his gaze._

_"You have forgotten who you are and so have forgotten us." He trailed off when she glanced away again. "Look inside yourself Eliana; you are more than what you have become. You must take your place in this world and you must save our family..."_

_Eliana nodded absently._

_"Remember who you are. You are the daughter of my son and the one true heir to the North." Rickard explained forcefully, almost drilling the sentence into her head before repeating his words. "Remember who you are."_

_Her voice was shaky when she spoke, unstable and haggard. "What if I fail?" It came out as a whisper, a gush of fear._

_He smiled at her fear of not being able to follow through his wish, but he respected that; her being worried of failing her family would give her all the more aspiration to succeed. "Then you will learn from your mistakes and try again. All blunders are lessons."_

" _Do us justice... do it for us, child._ "

The memory shifted quickly, and she found herself wincing.

_Her mother twsited Brienne's sword deep into the rags covering his chest. "Swear by your sister's life that if I do choose to set you free, you will send my girls back to me without fault and in one piece."_

_Jaime's lips twitched upwards, "And what if I chose to not swear?" He asked, almost daring to see what his other alternative might be. "This is no vow - especially one that is being made at swordspoint, I'm still chained like a wild animal."_

_"Lord Karstark wants vengeance for his sons, and I'm willing to give him what he wants." Catelyn told him. "And I promise you it will be not be quick... that much I know."_

_Jaime chuckled, amused by her words but also aware of his possible fate. "When you put it that way, perhaps, I might consider swearing to you, my lady." Jaime mused._

_Lady Catelyn called Eliana into the cage where Eliana suddenly knocked him out with the pommel of her sword, while Brienne swiftly unlocked the irons around his neck and ankles as Eliana kept her blade poised under Jaime's chin._

_They needed to move quickly if they were to smuggle him out safely._

From beside her, she heard Jaime sigh deeply. "Very well, lovely Lia." He muttered, clearly annoyed she was refusing to converse with him. "Silence it is then." He rejoined Steelshanks at the head of their column, leaving Eliana to herself.

Not long after, they made camp in the open for the night ahead, just off the road. However, Eliana sat apart from the group that had gathered themselves around the smoldering pile of firewood while warming themselves by indulging in stew, though she refused all food and drink. She watched as Beric slowly approached her, settling down beside her.

"Something is troubling you deeply." He noted plainly.

She merely nodded, frowning at the fire as it danced away into the cool night. "When you died, Beric... did you ever - ever see anything?" Eliana wondered, finally looking up at the man, her brow deep in intrigue.

He smiled softly, "You'll have to be more specific, Eliana."

"The other side."

Almost immediately Beric shook his head. "No, child... just darkness, a black void." He narrowed his eyes at her, conjecturing why she was asking such a thing. "Why do you ask?"

Eliana shook off the question, denying the possibility that Beric may have been lying when he said no and that she chose to avoid telling him that she'd spoken with her dead grandfather. "It doesn't matter... just a silly thought really."

"Your mother worries for you... she may be a wreck but she worries; she's afraid you're not the same person you once were." He informed her, adjusting the patch covering his eye. "Don't push away her comfort, and don't forget to comfort her."

In regard to his statement, she merely nodded in agreement. "Then my mother would be correct in her assumption, after watching my father and brother die... I don't think there is any possible way for me to return to who I once was..." She trailed off when she heard him walking away from where she lurked.  _Death can change people, but too much can alter them all together..._

* * *

When she was sure that they were all asleep save the lone man on watch, she rose to her feet and silently made her way out of earshot, allowing the moon to lead her, shining down in splendor, lighting her way through the darkness.

_The King in the North!_

_The King in the North!_

Eliana visibly flinched as the chanting echoed through her mind, causing her to seat herself on the leaf-strewn ground.  _No auburn curls and no blue eyes, instead where his head should have been, bloodied fur wisped in the breeze. The eyes flashed sadly in the fiery torchlight, glistening in the darkness of the night of terror. The mouth hung open and the tongue swung indolently..._ and she believed they could have won the war, all that hope was so bleak at that moment, a dying dream.

At last, she drew her knees up to her chest, hugging them for warmth. She shivered back into reality when she felt an owl swooped so close to her ear as its wind disturbed her thoughts before it met a dying howl which told her it had found its prey.  _How ironic..._  she thought to herself, the large feeding on the small, the strong feasting upon the weak. It was the way of all things, however, in nature there were no smiles and no oaths and honour... and no lies of betrayal.

She spotted a movement out of the corner of her eye and lifted her head in its direction. Jaime had sought her out; the moon silvering his hair as he walked towards her with the caution of a man approaching an angered boar.

"Eliana," Jaime begged, his eyes sad. "Please talk to me."

"Why?" Eliana questrioned darkly, glaring at the ground and refusing to look up at him. She couldn't begin to comprehend her anger, all the hate and abuse she was to drown Jaime, that she wanted to beat him with... she just didn't know where to begin. "So you can gloat?"

He closed his eyes, annoyed that she wasn't letting him finish, letting him speak. "You misunderstand... I take no pleasure in this news." Jaime explained, his voice rushed and irritated.

She snorted at that, finding that very hard to believe. "Why not?" She inquired, unwilling to be appeased. "Your enemies are dead, your life is one happy utopia once more."

Jaime winced, kneeling in front of her so he could stare at her face but also hoping she would finally look at him. "I won't deny that I would have gladly killed your brother in battle, I'll be honest with you - I dreamt of it for over a year while rotting in the mud, but do you think for one moment I can take pleasure from this news?" He paused briefly, looking at her incredously. "No man should die at a dinner table, this was no clean death... woman were murdered as well and the Freys will be byword for notoriety for generations. Believe me when I say that."

"And the Boltons... don't forget them." She reminded, her voice dismal and somewhat cataclysmic. "Roose Bolton betrayed his liege lord... did you know?" The question escaped her lips when she was least expecting it to do so. She hadn't prepared for it to happen that way. "You spoke with him, you knew we were both attending the wedding. Did he tell you what he intended?"

Jaime's mouth twisted in exasperation. "And there it is, the look." He sighed. "Once an oathbreaker, always an oathbreaker? Is that what you think of me?"

"Did you know?" She forced the question through unwilling lips. "It's a very simple question, either you did or you didn't."

"Of course not," Jaime replied, his voice guarded. "I knew Bolton meant to do something, else he would not have sent me back to my father so easily. But I swear to you that I never knew what until I caught news of it while en route to the capital."

She wanted to believe him, but she also knew he was a convincing liar when he wished to be, he lied to save her from rape... how hard would it be for him to lie about the knowledge of a plan.

Needless to say, Jaime continued to explain to her, wanting her to believe he spoke the truth. "This was not the work of a moment," Jaime took in a deep breath before concluding his speech. "It must have taken weeks for my father to weave this web, and what was I doing?  _Oh, that's right_... I was busy having my hand chopped off, remember?"

"Your father."

"Who else could have it possibly been? Walder Frey and Roose Bolton would never have done something so stupendous without his backing, you must know that."

 _The Lannisters murdered Robb_. She swallowed hard, feeling bile rise through her throat.  _Jaime is a Lannister, for whose life Lord Tywin would pay all the gold in Casterly Rock. He crippled Bran._  She rubbed her burning eyes.  _He saved a city, he saved me_.

As though he knows what she's thinking, Jaime carried on talking, clearly not ready to leave the subject alone. "There are no half-measures in this, Eliana. Either you trust me, or you do not. Which is it to be?"

 _He came back for me_ , Eliana remembered.  _If he meant to break his oaths, he could have left me to die on the open road but he came back..._  yet, he knew Bolton had planned something and that wasn't something she could so easily forget.

"I  _trusted_  you."

Her eyes were hard and emotionless, only regarding him with abhorrence. Not the love they once held at Harrenhal, not the kindness during their witty talks or laughs, just plain and utter detestation.

And with that, Jaime silently drew away from her but that didn't mean he was willing to give up so easily.

* * *

Deep into the next morning, the rain finally chose to subside after what had seemed all eternity, allowing the sky to sink into a limpid, cloudless teal; a light breeze gently caressing Eliana's face while she looked to her right to see her mother crying silently to herself, probably thankfully her face was covered from the eyes of the men.

In time, their pace slowed to an easy trost; knowing new mounts would be hard to come by if their current ones were to falter. The archer, Anguy, spotted large canes of wild blueberries, bright as sapphire, in a thicket just off the Kingsroad and sure enough Steelshanks gave the men leave to dismount and pick their fill.

Eliana slid from her mount and approached her mother's, handing the reins to Brienne as she helped Catelyn down and then led her to a quiet corner, wanting to see to her shoulder. The talk and laughter of Bolton's men faded into a pleasant murmur when she moved to peel away her mother's dress and her small clothes beneath to discover a small round hole weeping blood, with an angry rash forming around it.

It was infected, or it looked that way at least.

Eliana sighed, knowing she would need supplies and also knowing only one man would have them: Qyburn. "Brienne, fetch Qyburn quickly." She glanced up at the taller woman, who nodded and went in search for the Maester. Though she disliked the man, he had what they needed to clear up this infection. He had his uses.

Catelyn sniffed, wiping her eyes clean of the fresh tears threatening to fall. "Is is infected?" She asked as a croak, her voice raw and fractured when it reached her ears.

"Possibly..." Eliana agreed, still frowning. "I don't know but it still needs to be cleaned." She glanced around to try and see if Qyburn was coming, though she couldn't spot him and then she started to worry. "Bloody Maester."

"Lia, don't curse." Catelyn murmured.

"What happened?!" A shrill voice echoed through the air, causing the pair of them to jump in surprise at the outburst. Eliana turned her head to see the Maester rushing towards them, bewildered with how fast he was moving for an older man.

As Qyburn met Eliana, she moved out of the way for him. "The wound has re-opened, it needs to be rid of the infection - it needs to be poulticed with nettles..." They both lifted her carefully, making sure to not push the wound and cause her more pain.

"Qyburn?" She questioned, raising an eyebrow in his direction while he rooted through his obsolete bag. Pulling out a vile, Qyburn's eyes narrowed at the gaping hole in Catelyn's shoulder, proding it with his fingers. "You're going to make it worse than it already is!" Eliana accused, wrongfully.

Ignoring her, Qyburn unscrewed the vile and poured a small amount onto the wounded area before slowly moving to massage it into the area. It was a pristine solution and Eliana would dare ask what it was. "I think you'll agree when I say that I did poultice it with nettles before we started this morning, you need to give it -"

But Eliana wouldn't listen. "What give it time to kill her?"

Catelyn winced at her daughter's tone. "Lia, he's a Maester, he knows what he'd doing." She tried to reason with her daughter as Brienne wrapped her shawl around her shoulder.

"He hasn't even got a chain! He lost it thanks to his curiosity." Eliana glowered darkly at the man, showing no weakness for him to allow her to feel vulnerable. "If she dies, it's on your head..." And with that she stalked off in an unknown direction.

Brienne's brow deepened it worry. "My lady should I - ?" She started to follow her but Catelyn's voice pulled her back to her.

"Leave her... she needs to cool off." Catelyn advised, watching as Eliana stalked off, not bothering to even look back thanks to the anger surging through her body - and it was understandable. She missed Robb, and Ned... Bran and Rickon too, her sisters... her whole life before Robert's proposal.

Eliana hadn't gone far, she could still hear Qyburn and his dull tone voice but the talk and laughter of Bolton's men drifted louder; she spotted Beric and Thoros conversing between themselves while the rest of their party soon joined the others in their berry collecting. Eliana chose to stay away from it all together; leaning against a fallen trunk instead, stretching her legs and closing her eyes against the suns glare.

_The King in the North!_

_The King in the North!_

_No auburn curls and no blue eyes..._

* * *

A welcome coolness to the forest after the sultry day was comfoting to the large party, however, the familiar trees and rocks of the daytime took ominous forms. It was as if by stealing their colours the night also stole their friendly spirits and replaced them with malicious demons. The lack of bird song made the woods eerie alone, and no the shadows were ebing swallowed whole by the encroaching darkness. In the gathering gloom, the stars and the moon shone brighter in the sky despite the darkness creeping, as if to remind the group that even in the darkness there will always be light.

Eliana sat watching silently as Beric's men readied themselves to leave before first light, clearly not planning to go to Kings Landing which was understandable considering they were outlaws, but did they really need to leave in the night like criminals?

"You're leaving." She observed, walking to Beric's side.

He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yes, we are." He moved to tie his pack to his horse, waiting for her reply of disapproval to come but there wasn't one.

Eliana moved to his side, her lips close to his ear. "On the first moon of every month send a man into King's Landing and I will help your cause, issue your men with weapons, payment... whatever you need." Eliana explained in a hushed tone, not wanting any to overhear they conversation and grow suspicious.

That made Beric smile even more but he still shook his head. "Child, you have no need to do so. You owe us nothing." His voice was soft and kind.

"I owe you everything." Eliana argued defiantly. "I would be dead if your group hadn't arrived when you had... I want to anyway and  _I will_."

"Then you would be stealing things of which do not belong to you."

"Stop trying to find flaws." Eliana took his reins as Beric climbed atop his horse, wanting to get through to him that she wanted to help. "But it will help a better cause rather than being wasted by those who won't use it's full potenial, Beric." She pleaded.

He paused, watching her and then looked to Thoros, who simply shrugged and seemed to be content with the idea. "Every first moon of every month." He reached down to take her hand. "Go on, Eliana Stark... live a long and happy life, protect your mother and revenge those you love."

She nodded, "On the contrary, I plan to."

Her reply made both men smile, "Good." They said in unison, content that she wasn't willing to let such a monstrosity go just like that, that she was prepared to take down the Lannister, the Boltons and the Freys. "Hopefully, we will see each other again... on which path, it is unknown."

"My Lady Catelyn, we bid you good health." Beric called her mother to him, nodding dutifully while he trotted by. "May your husband's soul along with your childrens find peace."

Thoros kicked his mare into action, trailing behind Beric. "Maid of Tarth." He bowed his head, not sparing Steelshanks's company another glance.

"So long  _Queen of the North._ "

* * *

Qyburn had advised him to not watch in the lake nearby but Jaime had not listened to the old man. He didn't give a shit about what the old stout said to him anymore. He needed to rid himself of his sins, all thoughts he wasn't meant to have.

 _Fuck forbidden thoughts_. He just couldn't stop thinking of her.  _But it was harmless enough, wasn't it?_

Jaime yelped in shock at how cold the water was. What would the little wolf had done if she'd put her toe in and discovered the water was as chilly as it looked? He imagined her arms and legs ridden with gooseflesh, the chill making her nipples hard...

_Jaime, you have to stop this… I can't._

He waded further into the water, stopping when it hugged his thighs nicely. As long as he was imagining, taking his manhood in hand, he may as well imagine she was naked with him… like she had been at their night while staying in Harrenhal, naked and glorious, standing there while the light reflected her pale skin.

He tried,  _he had_. He'd attempted to replace the images of Eliana with Cersei but Jaime had been disturbingly unproductive in trying to do so, he tried to imagine his golden twin naked and waiting for him in the water as the gentle waves lapped her thighs. He tried to picture her with an inviting smile, bare for him to see…

Butt he couldn't picture her face, let alone picture her waiting in the water for him... Cersei had loathed the idea of swimming ever since she'd become a " _woman_ ". All the fun and care free days of their youth together, spent swimming and roaming the rock, were long gone.

But as he closed his eyes, he saw her...  _Eliana_.

The water shimmering down upon her breasts as she laughed with him, her eyes meeting his before she reached down and took him in her hands; her grip secure and well-assured. Then, Jaime imagined he would lean forward to press his lips to hers, forcing her to open her mouth and tasting her.

He just needed his moment, he thought, wrapping his left hand around himself and giving a quick upward stroke.  _It didn't really matter who he thought about, did it?_  His last time with Cersei had been nearly two years…  _two years ago!_  But now he thought of it only as desperation for release, no connection sought out in their brief moments of lust and need.

As his hand worked faster on his aching manhood, he continued to image their next encounter, moaning as the images infected his mind. He even allowed himself to imagine his fingers working wonders, making her gasp and moan his name, making her ready with his fingers before slowly thrusting into her, giving her everything…

Soon he was gasping her name,  _Eliana_ , over and over as he came, his hand moving up and down in a frantic movement as to satisfy his need to soothe his lust. However, his moment of serenity came to a screeching halt when he heard raised voices, and soon he was wading further into the water to disguise himself.

At first, he couldn't make out the voices or the words, but they came closer to the lake and he caught what was being said.

"… I give you my word that they will pay… every one of them will die. If anyone would dare harm you, they will die screaming."  _Lia._ It was Lia, he knew her voice anywhere, that northern tone of hers.

_Who was she talking with?_

Jaime peered around the weeds to see her talking with her mother; Catelyn looked tired and weak, almost upon death's door though he knew she'd just escaped certain death to be wondering into the hands of another.

Eliana wasn't looking at her mother; her view was intently trained upon the glow of the lake. "You need to remember not to get yourself killed." Catelyn warned, trying to draw her attention to her.

"Everyone must die."

"Lia, are you listening to me?" The older woman persisted, her fingers curling around her shoulder was enough to force Eliana away from her and finally draw her attention. "Oberyn is on his way, with how many soldiers I do not know... think of that."

She looked as though she'd seen a ghost, however, her gaze didn't settle for long. "Will Oberyn bring them back then?"

Jaime's eyes widened when he thought she saw him looking but thankfully he managed to sink into the water's depths before she did. "You should rest, you look tired mother… we'll start early in the morning."

Catelyn didn't have the fortuitous to speak anymore, already knowing Eliana was agitated as it was, she didn't want to make her any worse than necessary. Though she said the only thing she knew how to say. "I love you, Lia."

Eliana smiled faintly, turning to watch Catelyn go. "As do I, mother." She whispered, feeling an ache surface from her stomach, knowing in that instant that she needed to apply Qyburn's ointment.

Even Eliana knew that with Oberyn marching to wherever, would only cause more outrage... what could Oberyn prevent that had already been done?

In one fluid movement, her tunic was thrown to the ground as the cool air hit her chest and making her skin shiver deliciously. She was in constant pain, endless and always there… lurking in the darkness.

Unable to take his eyes off of her, Jaime stared at her nakedness, there was no modesty left in her anymore. Gradually, his eyes ghosted over the softer lines of her body, the curves…

"Are you done with your staring, Lannister?" Eliana was watching him like a hawk now, her mouth set in a grim line, her lips non-existent as she pressed them tightly together.

Admittedly, he almost ran for his clothes, causing the water to ripple violently as he freed himself from his hiding place. "I'm sorry!" Jaime shouted, throwing on his trousers although he failed somewhat with only the one hand. "W- would you like me to help you?" He dared to question when he finally emerged from the shadows once he had managed to secure his trousers in place.

He felt panic rise within him when he saw her questionable look and he hastened to explain, "Your stomach… would you rather have someone else do it? I can assist you." He looked up, meeting her eyes as she watched him suspiciously, "Or I can fetch Qyburn, if you'd prefer?"

Regarding his weak threat, Eliana would most definitely not prefer the company of Qybyrn, using the ointment the old man had given her was one thing but to have his hands on her skin was quite another, one she never even gave a second thought about. It made her cringe, physically and mentally.

She knew he was right, and she saw not much point in causing such a petty quarrel, so, silently she handed over the ointment.

Her eyes shined with laughter when she spotted his hesitation, and she knew Jaime must have seen it because soon enough he was running his fingertips carefully down her stomach as she hissed through her teeth when they made contact with the long shallow wound that lurked in her lower abdomen.

He murmured an apology under his breath.

His fingertips were calloused, as any good swordsman's were, skimming down her side until they reached the wound again. He couldn't hide his stupid smile when she closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath; clearly she was unprepared for the frisson of arousal that had shivered through her.

His simple touch had made her shiver in pleasure, though, his touch was replaced with the unexpected chill of the ointment against her skin that made her gasp aloud.

"Are you in pain?" His voice asked, concerned.

"No."

Eliana could feel the heat of his skin radiating, inches from hers as he controlled himself with applying the ointment. It seemed to take hours, as painfully aware as she was of each brush of his fingers against her skin but soon they started to wander. His fingertips dragged slowly, not near her wound then but on unmarked skin, sitting supply under her breast and just above the curve of her hip.

His breathing had changed, harsher and faster. She could hear her own heartbeat thudding in her ears, her own breath copying his wonderfully.

As a sudden impulse, he pressed his arm to her chest, pushing her back against a tree. He cupped her cheek with his left hand; his palm was cool yet clammy. But now, his eyes were ablaze, glittering with a jeopardy that she couldn't help but find disgracefully thrilling while his hand moved around to fist the hair at the nape of her neck, the stands catching beneath his jagged fingernails, pressing the fingertips so hard that she gasped.

Her eyes were wide as she stared at him, "What are you…" She failed to get the words out as Jaime's mouth soon occupied hers.

He hummed at the taste of her lips, savouring the taste. It was not like kissing Cersei… in no way was it the same, which he was more than grateful for. He pulled back to look at her, his breathing heavy as he hesitantly pulled his left hand back from her hair. His eyes stayed on her as she opened her eyes again to look at him.

He was warm, pressed against her body while the uneven body of the tree dug into her back, but she scarcely felt it as Jaime's good hand slipped around her waist to run enticing circles against the skin at her hip that set her flesh tingling with delight, his mouth quickly patiently gracing her own in a deliriously intoxicating rhythm.

Shifting, Jaime buried his head at her shoulder and began sucking hot, open-mouthed kisses against her collarbone while mumbling that he wasn't going  _to share with Martell_.

Though she knew it wasn't the right time, Eliana made herself ask the question that had been on her mind since he had first returned. "Why did you come back?"

Jaime pulled away, and for a second he looked at her as though she was some Moon Boy but then his face softened, and his gaze pierced through her as it had at Harrenhal. She couldn't have looked away even if she had wished/wanted to. "I couldn't have lived with myself if I hadn't," Jaime said as a whisper, reaching up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

He couldn't stop touching her, having not realised how much he expected never to see her again until he did. His fingers ghosted along her collarbone, down her arm; over her stomach again, up and up, gently tracing circles around her breasts. He smiled to himself when her nipples stiffened as he ran his fingertips over them.

Jaime had a hundred things he wanted to say to her; though he could think of nothing to say, no words came to him. But they weren't need. Eliana brought her own fingers up, trailing them over his lips. He kissed her fingertips, one by one, until she replaced them with her mouth.

A soft kiss, a sweet kiss. He continued to run his fingers over her skin, gently. Though he paused momentarily when he met a cross lying upon her skin.

She glanced down - Jaime's hand had drifted to fit against the cross lying over her hip, his thumb cool and brushing above the scar.

_Bolton's mark. Everlasting._

"Apologies," Jaime hummed, starting to pull his hand back. His brows rose when Eliana captured it, pressing it back against her hip. He inspected her face while his thumb brushed up her hip and traced towards her naval. She held his gaze until he let his nail scrape across her skin, her eyes darting down as a shiver chased up her spine.

He dragged his nails rougher over her stomach, just to watch her shudder.  _Cersei would've never allowed me to blemish her skin in such a way_... Eliana welcomed it and it left him grinning.

They both knew they would resume their duties once in Kings Landing, but for the next few moments, Jaime could forget he was a Lannister, kissing a woman who was probably the most principled person he'd ever known in his life, a person who care not for his titles, and who respected and hated him all the same, in a way he doubted anyone had in a long time.

And it led him to one plausible conclusion.

He might love her.


	29. In the Lion's Den

The next day, they made good time and Jaime knew they were nearing Kings Landing just by the smell. Before they even passed through the Dragon Gate, the stench had aroused to greet them upon their arrival. Jaime's eyes widened however when the smell of burnt flesh and ash crawled up his nose followed by the blackened city walls which must've been the scars from the Battles of the Blackwater.

He had been away  _too_  long.

Brienne and Eliana shared a look of concern as the Dragon Gate stood looming over them, swallowing the end of the Kingsroad; the wails of chains groaning in agony and then the rasp of the portcullis being lifted proclaimed the approach belonging to the Dragon Gate's commander, Ser Humfry Waters, flanked both sides by at least a dozen golden cloaks of the city watch.

Eliana knew they had entered hazardous territory, choosing to stay close to her mother and Brienne as they trotted through, allowing Jaime and Steelshanks to lead to way.

Jaime recognised him straight away, remembering him as it had been Jaime's other duty to familiarise himself with every commander of each of the city gates. He couldn't help but feel a little downhearted when he saw no look of recognition on his face as he rode beside Steelshanks. Was he truly  _that_  ruined?

"Who are you... what's your business in the capital?"

Steelshanks's face held its usual grim line, "We've been issued to deliver the Kingslayer to his father here in Kings Landing." He announced, approaching the gate commander while he looked at the sigil of the flayed man emblazoned on the banner billowing behind Steelshanks.

"Where is the Kingslayer, then? Let us see him."

Jaime started forward, feeling the stirrings of humiliations in the pits of his stomach. "I am Ser Jaime Lannister," He informed Ser Humfry, who merely gawked at him before he noticed the stump sat where his right hand should have been; bewilderment followed by pity transitioning across his face.

 _Pity..._  it hurt to know he would come to know it all too well...

Ser Humfry nodded stiffly, "My apologies Lord Commander," The cloak replied in a strained voice, "I'll have my men escort you safely to the Red Keep."

Jaime said nothing more as Ser Humfry's eyes shifted along their company. His brow deepened when his gaze stilled upon Brienne. "And this beast of a woman can only be Brienne the Beauty," Humfry went on, watching as Brienne held her tongue. "We've heard all about you, doing us all a great favour in the dispatching of Renly."

Eliana's distaste for Ser Humfry Waters grew into a hatred she knew would be everlasting. She smirked when his watery eyes met hers, his hands immediately trailing to the hilt of his sword at his waist as if he knew her face from somewhere but Eliana was absolutely certain she had never met the man before.

"And who are you?" He pressed, shifting on his feet to move closer and get a better look at her.

Eliana smiled at the questioned, "I can already see this is going to be difficult, especially with your same never ending questions...  _who are you?_ " She started, sliding from her mount and clasping the sword at her own waist. " _What do you want? What is your business here?_ "

At her speech, Humfry drew his sword finally.

" _Ooh_ , careful now..." Her own sword was a mere few inches from her grasp, not completely willing herself to draw it. "If you want to do this, there is the likely possibility you will die."

Jaime quickly stepped in front of Eliana, realising she had no intention of drawing her sword to fight Humfry, let alone defend herself should he  _actually_  attack her, clearly only trying to make him attack her and he didn't want her to get hurt. She'd been hurt too many times and all for the wrong reasons as far as Jaime was concerned.

She moved Jaime away from her just so she could see Humfry again to antagonize him. "The answer to your question is, might I be a Stark? Well, I am indeed." Eliana confirmed Humfry's silent assumption, "First born to Eddard of the House Stark and Catelyn of the House Tully."

"Eliana Stark." A gold cloak whispered in a hushed tone. "The Beauty of the North..."

She heard another whisper, "A treacherous cunt more like."

That made her laugh, "An accurate assessment." She agreed.

Still not warming to Ser Humfry, Jaime persisted with trying to reason with the man. "Stand down, Ser Humfry," Jaime instructed, in his most authoritative tone he could manage in that moment. The commander was well passed his youth and Jaime wasn't stupid enough to underestimate the precision he posed with his blade.

"You do not command me, Kingslayer," Humfry growled, grabbing a handful of Jaime's cloak and shoving him along. Staggering slightly, Jaime resisted and grasped for his blade with his hand, feeling graceless and incompetent as he attempted to do so. He severely didn't want to display weakness in front of the city watch who would undoubtedly gossip and spread word of his maiming - they unsettled him and he mistrusted the accuracy in their selection.

"She's simply here to escort me, Waters." Jaime asserted the man, struggling to hold onto the cross-guard of the knight's sword to keep him at bay, knowing as soon as he broke free, he would swing for her whether Jaime stood in his way or not.

"Or dispose of a few bastards if they get in the way..."

"Or perhaps, we'll dispose the Utopia of another Wolf?"

Humfry wrenched loose of Jaime's grasp and drew his blade back, swinging it in a swift and barbaric arc that Jaime could have deflect, if he had a sword hand that is. Eliana finally drew her own blade, just in time to clash against Humfry's before he could maim Jaime from shoulder to spine. He shivered when he felt the gust of air ripple against his skin, feeling how close the blade had come to colliding with him.

Eliana forced Humfry's sword down, pushing forward so that he had to step back. Humfry gritted his uneven teeth and surged forward that a crazed dog, Eliana however, only side-stepped out-of-the-way while he whirled and attempted to hack at her again, his blade singing blissfully against Eliana's when she raised it swiftly to block his attack.

The City Watch guards stood like a barrel of lemons, and soon Jaime felt his frustration almost getting the better of him. If he failed to act, someone would surely die. Eliana had fought stronger men than Humfry before, almost always victorious each time. Yet he knew that her killing the Commander of the Dragon Gate would have dire repercussions that they couldn't afford. He had to put an end to their quarrel as quickly as able, and without bloodshed if that was even possible.

While having turned his back, Humfry didn't realise how quickly Eliana Stark could move when not being watched and soon he knew as he felt the sensation of an icy blade slicing through his thigh, hacking at an artery,  _a much needed one_. Groaning, he toppled over, rushing to apply pressure to wound as blood spilled through his fingers to paint the ground a vivid crimson shade.

Now Jaime only had one option.

"Seize her!" He ordered, shouting at the City Watch, not knowing what else to do and having no other option. "You two, seize her at once!"

"Take her to the dungeons," Jaime instructed, not liking his decision but seeing no clear alternative for defusing the situation. The look in Eliana's eyes cut him to the bone, the glare sliced through him as butter against a knife.  _It's for your own good and the safety of others_ , he wanted to scream while she didn't even resist as the guards took her arms and led her away.

"You three, help the Commander to Maester Pycelle."

A gold cloak looked at Jaime, "He won't make it..."

"Then one of you go fetch him!"

"My lady," Jaime spoke, rounding on Catelyn. "If you'll follow me, your beast is welcome to join..."

The look on Catelyn's face was petulant, clearly not agreeing with how Jaime had handled her daughter. "And how long will she stay in the dungeons, Ser?" Catelyn questioned abruptly as she watched him climb back upon his mount.

But Jaime didn't reply, holding his head high as they passed through the Dragon Gate. Steelshanks's host only following until the road forked off at Aegon's Hill, where the Red Keep sat waiting for them. Jaime issued the men with their promised gold and reminded them that a Lannsiter always pays his debts. The farewell was in no way nostalgic - just a few simple gruff words and away they went, the hooves of their horse clattering against the cobbles as they traipsed away, probably to spend their gold on whores.

Catelyn, Brienne and Qyburn still lingered. He supposed Qyburn deserved as much reward as the others for tending to him and making sure it was only a hand he lost instead of an arm. As for Catelyn, Jaime hoped to bring her to her daughter at the very least. And Brienne, if he could keep her close to her lady, the better for Lady Stark.

The gates of the Red Keep were open to them as they advanced forwards, and Jaime knew that one of the gold cloaks had obviously ridden ahead to send word of their arrival in the capital as a cluster of people had gathered to watch them, eager to catch a glimpse of the Kingslayer, disgraced and maimed.

Catelyn followed him up the stone steps that lead into the keep, her presence unsettled and delicate as she entered the room, not her usual astute. Within, the iron throne sat empty and ugly, though, Jaime could still remember the pain he had received from sitting upon it, after he had slaughtered Aerys who had lied dead beneath. The room was full of horror and ghosts; the Mad King had burned Rickard Stark alive while Brandon choked himself to death trying to save his father in the room they walked through. Jaime didn't like the room,  _he loathed it_. To him, it would always be filled with the stench of blood, scorched flesh, and muffled choking.

A room of horrors.

He drew himself away from the memories when he saw the great wooden door swing open before them and a man of the Kingsguard filed out. He didn't know him; he had been away far  _too_ long. He was dark of hair, tall and stocky with a hooked nose that ruined his faces.

"Ser Jaime," The man greeted, as though they were old friends and had known each other all their lives... it was far too familiar for Jaime's liking if he was honest.

Worried for Catelyn and knowing she may be recognised, Jaime didn't waste time in replying to the greeting given to him. "And you are?" He inquired, his tone harsh and foreign.

"Ser Osmund Kettleblack."

"Forgive me, Ser Osmund?" He frowned in reply.

"I captained the Queen's guard during the siege upon the capital, the Battle of the Blackwater." Jaime almost snarled at him,  _Cersei, of course..._ he mused to himself, thinking herself so mighty and clever for placing her little pets into the guard.

Jaime hoped to keep his attention a little longer before he started at Catelyn and Brienne. "I suppose you saw a lot of action then, did you? Did you fight well? Do your King proud?" He pressed, knowing fully well that none of Stannis's forces had managed to reach Maegor's Holdfast. His simple sentences were enough to chastise Osmund into bewilderment, and before he could make a witty remark, the doors flew open from behind.

"Lady Stark, the Hand of the King has requested to see you at once."

* * *

He had never met Lady Catelyn Tully Stark in person, but Tyrion had said she was a fairly attractive woman for her age, but awfully difficult to contend with. Of course, the last time his son had laid eyes upon the woman, he had been her captive. Still, according to most, she was womanly with delicate features, pale skin and long wavy auburn hair which she normally wore in a braid. She was said to walk straight and exultantly and move with the dignity fit of a lady. If she was indeed hard to deal with, Tywin knew he could tame her.

But the woman he saw enter his solar was nothing he had pictured. She looked older than her age, extremely pale and gaunt, almost as white as the linen sheets that lined his bed. Her hair was unkempt, half in a braid and the other falling messily down her shoulders to hang at her back. Her clothes appeared dirty and reeked of vomit mixed with the stench of blood.

"Lady Catelyn- " Tywin started, his eyes falling on her gradually after he had assessed her appearance.

"Lady Stark."

Her assertion took him by surprise. "Excuse my conspicuousness," Tywin said falsely, she needed to understand how the game worked. "But I believe you haven't been Lady Stark for sometime now. Perhaps Lady Tully, but I doubt you'll be either for much longer."

She took a step closer to where Tywin lurked, clearly not liking how he was referring to her, and therefore her stance grew defensive. "I might have had my share of misfortune, Ser, but don't you dare mistake me for a nameless woman who is ruined beyond repair. I am a Tully and I am a Stark, you do not have the permission to call me by my given name."

Tywin nodded, "If you insist, but don't doubt for even a second that you or your houses are still standing firm and strong." He'd always regarded cyan eyes as alluring, but he knew that that wasn't the case as he witnessed the harshness of the billowing northern winds reflecting from Catelyn's gaze.

"I will survive, my daughters and I will survive."

At her words, Tywin found himself struggling to hold in his laughter; to truly play their game, he should have laughed. Somehow though, he managed to keep himself sober. " _Survive?_ " Tywin repeated, "You don't survive, Catelyn, you simply endure. You argue with me as an attempt to convince me that you aren't ruined, that you're still complete - still Lady Catelyn Tully Stark... but even I know you aren't her anymore."

He soon found himself walking to where she stood; no way was he going to back down, it was her turn to cower. "Perhaps you lost yourself when that sword separated your husband's head from his body. Or was it when word came from Winterfell that your two youngest had been murdered by the Greyjoy boy? Or did you finally shatter when you witnessed your last living son die right before your eyes?"

Even as her face palled, she refused to take her eyes off of him. Each breath she released steadily kept her from either sobbing uncontrollably or ripping his throat out... she didn't know, she couldn't tell.

"I don't care which one it was - but as soon as that ripped through you, everything you were before ceased to exist. You life was shattered and falling apart, leaving you breathless, dead and gasping for air like the trout you are."

"You don't know- "

" _Don't I?_ " Tywin dared to taunt her, but it was true; he did. Tywin had lost his wife, did she think he didn't know? "I think I do, Catelyn. It goes like this; you carry on each day, hoping that you might possibly recover that small piece of the life you once had as an attempt to restore it and you might find it one day, but the pain will never stop. But despite all that had happened to you, you know you'll survive - despite how much you may wish to die, you'll live out of spite of those who have wronged you. But you surviving, doesn't mean you're not ruined."

He expected silence, and for his words to weigh heavy upon her shoulders, for her to actually take them into consideration however, Catelyn would not give him the satisfaction. "Or even still, Lord Tywin, if you were to carry out such an assessment upon yourself, you would discover exactly what you are." She hissed out harshly.

Tywin didn't even react. "I know exactly what I am. And I know exactly how terrible I have become.  _A victor. A champion. A King._ "

" _My Ned_  was beheaded under false charges of treason thanks to your grandson, you personally orchestrated my son's death, who was killed right before my very eyes along with his wife and unborn child and thousands of our banners." She paused to take a breath and to keep herself from sobbing and showing how weak she'd become. "You are the reason for my brother rotting in a dungeon,  _if he is still alive_ , and the ruin of my home. My youngest sons are dead because of this bloody war and my husband's house lies in tatters at my feet. Your family has lost one of my daughters and keeps the other one prisoner. My firstborn lies shackled in the dungeons to seek the King's justice."

"I understand. You won the war and we lost. But just give me my punishment and be done with it, let me go or have me killed - I care not for living if I have nothing left to live for."

 _No, she wasn't mad... she was defeated and tired, searching for peace_. "No, Lady Catelyn, you will not be killed. You will, in fact, be allowed to live... until I devise a suitable arrangement that is advantageous for the both of us."

"Please enlighten me, Lord Tywin."

Tywin clasped his hands together gladly, "If I were to let you go, where would you go? Riverrun is firmly under my command, I have temporarily given it to my good-brother Emmon, whose father I understand you're quite close with, Walder." He paused for effect and saw the agony flash through her eyes. "Yes, I see you do. His son, Tion, was kill there by your son's men - the Karstark's, so I saw it fit that he should get Riverrun in return." Tywin explained, happily choosing to show her that she truly had nowhere to run.

"Would you go to winterfell? From what I've heard, the place is disarray. It was torn down by the Iron Born or put to the torch by the Bastard of Bolton, I'm none the wiser. How about the Eyrie, to your sister's house? I'm told she's a bit … how shall I put it? Crazed? Deranged? Perfectly insane should suffice for now, I don't think you're one for madness. I'm not even going to begin to speak about the Wall and your husband's bastard son..."

Despite all he was throwing at her, she managed to keep her head held high and listen to his words, regardless of how much it pained her.

Tywin smirked in triumph. "I'll admit I had not expected to see you here, Catelyn. I thought you had died with your son but it appeared that I may have been mislead to believe the wrong conclusion by the Freys who had allowed you to slip through their fingers..." He watched her face slowly contort. "You know as well as I that King's Landing was your best option. You had no place to go, and no one to run to. Most of your family is dead. Sansa and Eliana are all you have left, and your only option of seeing them is staying here. Do you wish to see your daughters again, Lady Catelyn?"

Indeed, there was a time where she would have begged him to kill her, let her go to her dead husband and her children but instead, she started at him, faster than he could've imagined, and pulled him out of his chair. She pressed the manacles at her wrists around his neck, choking him while he clawed for her to release him.

Then she was off him, being held by several of his men with a knife locked securely at her throat and arms holding her in place to prevent her from doing anything else. "Shall we kill her, my lord?"

On the other hand, Tywin shock them by his next words as he rubbed his throat, as if trying to soothe the pain. "No... no." He didn't know what had made him or why he had said it. Even though she wanted to kill him, he didn't wish her dead... if anything, he asked for it with all his taunting.

"My lord?"

He waved them off, "Leave the room," He ordered hoarsely, coughing slightly until his voice had settled into its usual firm tone. Once the guards had gone, he turned to her again. "Catelyn, I have no intention of hurting you unless your daughter and yourself cooperate with me  _fully_."

" _No intention of hurting me?_ " She spat, regarding him with pure hatred. "You're the only reason I am here, alive and aching with the pain of losing my family... it's all your fault!"

"And why would it be my fault, my lady?" He was talking to her with that monotone voice of his that seemed to anger her more than before. She tried to hit him, kick him - injury him anyway she could but even before her chained arms could land a single hit, he grabbed her arms and stilled her. "Well, well, Catelyn. There's no need to be so violent, never did I expect you to act in such an unladylike way. I'm not here to hurt you; I was here to hurt your son and daughter, but never you."

With regards to that she was only issuing her with more distress by talking about her loved ones, she screamed in rage. "How dare you tell me you never wanted or wished to hurt me?! It was by your command that made me see my son,  _my firstborn son_ , murdered in front of my very eyes! He was a boy, my boy! My daughter! How dare you,  _how dare you_ ,  _how dare you?!_  You're not hurting me... all you've done is hurt me..."

Tywin shook his head. "No I haven't... Lord Walder and Roose Bolton are who you have to thank for that."

"On your command!" She exclaimed, barely holding onto any sanity that she could find still lingering within herself. "You gave them the orders!"

"It was not my intention for you to be there, lady Catelyn. Your son started a war I aimed to finish."

"But I was!" She cried out, her face contorting horribly as she cried. "You have no idea what happened there... I wanted to go home, be at peace but I was unable to... Winterfell had been burnt to the ground with my two boys..." She started crying again, hiding her face from him, though, she glanced up when she felt a hand taking hers and pulling her up.

"What are you doing?"

"Do you want to see your daughter lady Stark? Do you wish to see Sansa?"

* * *

She could feel her blood still surging through her veins, causing her heart to beat widely in the cage of her chest. She hadn't had any time to calm from the fight against Ser Humfry and soon she could hear the sound of raised voices drifting down to her cell from the narrow hall that led elsewhere. A moment later, the heavy lock at her cell was hauled open and in he walked.

"Jaime?"

The Lion of Lannister still wore the clothes he'd arrived in and she knew he must have come to her immediately after ordering her arrest. Her eyes followed him as he placed the torch he carried into a lopsided sconce on the wall, waiting for him to explain himself.

"Lia, you know I had no other choice," He pleaded, kneeling beside her on the stone ground, ignoring the filth it possessed. "I couldn't have either of you killing the other. Humfry is currently struggling for his life because of you."

"He asked for it." She looked away from him as he reached for her, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing her tightly against him, almost as if to make to sure she was real and he wasn't dreaming. "He had it coming to him..."

"I can't stay," Jaime said, and she nodded in understanding of the situation she had landed herself in. Slowly, he moved to kiss her on the lips but she turned her head again, letting him know she was clearly uncomfortable with him doing that in such a place. However, Jaime kissed her forehead instead. It was a simple gesture, as though he did so often that it was normal for him, and it made Eliana smile slightly. Here they were in King's Landing at last, and he hadn't run to Cersei.  _He may still though_ , she reminded herself.

"I'm sorry," Jaime whispered. She only nodded, and he pulled away to look at her, his emerald eyes glowing with warmth and concern as he stared at her.

"I'll be fine, Jaime," Eliana promised him lightly, not particularly bothered that she would stay locked in a cell against her will, knowing there was always the possibility of being in a worse situation that she was already in. He smiled at her and allowed his fingers to fall across the left side of her face, ghosting over the scar that laid there before pulling himself to his feet. "Where's my mother?"

Jaime didn't answer her question, he couldn't because he knew she wouldn't like the answer he would give her. "I'll leave you the torch, though it won't last long." He replied under his breath, shrugging his cloak off his shoulders. "Perhaps my cloak as well, to keep you warm."

Eliana had no reply, she couldn't think of one. She was still too angry from the incident with Ser Humfry - the man had stirred feelings she would need time to process, lest them linger and drunken her mind but she understood why Jaime had acted the way that he had; if he hadn't positioned himself between them to take the blows meant for her, she couldn't have been sure if she would have even bothered to raise her own sword to Ser Humfry, even if meant certain death. She couldn't be sure.

If she died, she would have met her father and brother again, and Bran and Rickon... but she would have left her mother and sisters to the Lannisters. But then she would've failed her family all the same...

Jaime left her with that look of his, the one where his eyes shined through the darkness to the pierce the soul. She didn't know when it had happened, or how he managed it but she found herself trusting him more than she would've liked. She couldn't even distinguish what they were anymore - the crucial line between enemy, friend and lover had become so foreign.

It wasn't too late for her to turn back on the path she had already begun, to finish what she was meant to. They couldn't be anything more to each other than either one of them would have liked - he was in the Kingsguard and he had his vows and she had hers, both destined to last for a lifetime. She needed to make this clear to him and make him understand. Though, when the door had slammed safely shut, Eliana didn't discard him cloak and instead she chose to wrap it around herself.

She knew Jaime of all people, would never take the news as such...  _Jaime_.


	30. Words

Sansa knelt in the godswood, her skirt clenched in her fists. She wanted nothing more than to weep, she wanted to scream at the gods for playing such a cruel jest on her. Her mother, who she believed to have been murdered by the Freys, was thankfully alive but now a prisoner, more firmly than Sansa had ever been. And her sister, her sister was to await the King's Justice for treason just like her father.

Her sharp fingernails dug into her palms as she allowed her thoughts to get the better of her, yet Sansa didn't really care. The pain kept her alive, reminding her that it was all real and not some silly dream she could wake from. As much as she wanted to discard the mask she wore, she wouldn't dare. She needed them to continue to see her as a caged bird and underestimate her but they would forget that the little dove could howl as mighty as the wolf, she wasn't weak.

Her eyes snapped open when she heard footsteps approaching her but she kept her head bowed, refusing to acknowledge until she was ready, until she said so.

"Lady Sansa. Your lady mother requests your presence." If it had been anyone else she would have lurked in the godswood a little longer than necessary but she couldn't disobey Tywin Lannister, the mighty lion.. perhaps that was why he had come to her in person rather than relying on a servant to do the job.

Carefully, Sansa rose to her feet, smoothing out the creases in her skirt before she turned towards him. "Of course, my lord." She answered, her voice level and calm as she walked towards him. She kept her head bowed and silent as they emerged from the godswood to begin their journey towards the Tower of the Hand.

She could feel eyes upon her, whispering about her sister, mother... her entire family for that matter. The news of her sister's arrest had spread like Wildfire. She ignored the stares, keeping herself composed successfully. She was also grateful that Tywin didn't attempt to engage her with small talk, to make this any less awkward.

Just as they'd almost arrived at the tower did someone step into their path, flanked by two guards at either side. Immediately, Sansa found herself sinking into a courtesy, "Your Grace," She greeted the Queen Regent, her head still bowed.

Cersei's lips twisted into a smirk, "Ah, our little dove has returned to the nest," Cersei commented dryly, attempting to implore her father's words but somewhat failing in Sansa's eyes. The cruel amusement leaked through her voice as she continued to speak, "Rather like a pup to her bitch, actually..."

Sansa didn't reply, nor did she moved for that matter. She was accustomed to her taunts now, expecting no less from a Lannister if she was strictly true with herself. Cersei had been the sole purpose of her pain with being Joffrey's mother,  _Lady, father, Septa Mordane... Robb, Bran and Rickon... Arya._ She was ready to show the Queen how little of a dog she truly was.

"I'm surprised you even crawled away from your mother's side since her return." Cersei observed, tilting her head in a patronising way. "I somewhat expected much more attentiveness from you most of all, Sansa."

"They refused to allow me to see my mother, Your Grace." She replied simply, "Also, I enjoy praying in the silence of the godswood, especially after being from home for so long it's somewhat comforting."

"How pious of you."

"I do try, Your Grace." Sansa kept her answer sweet and simple, without embellishment, and she was glad to see that her words angered Cersei, knowing that they would come of use in the future. "Perhaps it's family that keeps me going..."

"There's not much left of yours though." Sansa could hear the cruel smile she was certain was plastered beautifully across Cersei's face.

Sansa tilted her head, "I wasn't referring solely to mine, Your Grace." Slowly but surely, Sansa lifted her gaze to meet the Queen Regent's eyes and even dared to send her a smile. "As I am your brother's wife which makes me your good-sister." She hated that she had to say those words, hating that she had to acknowledge the hold the Lannisters had over her.

Cersei's mouth tightened uncomfortably, "Indeed," She finished before turning and striding off, not even bothering to acknowledge her father, which allowed Sansa to believe there was a rift of sorts between the pair.

Sansa knew she should've prepared for Cersei's encounter, realising that it was almost obvious she would meet the Queen Regent on route to her mother. She should have expected her, but instead she found herself blazing with anger and surprise of being so foolish to not do so. She needed to be more careful in the future, she reminded herself before turning to Tywin, "If you would be kind enough to lead onward, my lord." Sansa requested bravely, keeping her gaze trained on the ground.

Lord Tywin nodded slowly, before gesturing for her to take his arm. "Of course, I expect you're eager to see your mother after being so long departed from each other."

Upon their continued journey, thankfully, there were no more interruptions however this time, Tywin decided to engage in small talk with made Sansa's shoulders droop in dread.

Tywin paused before the door that stood between mother and daughter, glancing at the girl beside him, who was gripping his arm tightly in anticipation and fear. "You must forgive my daughter, Lady Sansa, I truly have no idea what has become of her but I must say she is an embarrassment and I will her straightened out."

"It's fine, my lord... my father was a traitor, the Queen is welcome to do so." Sansa replied, her voice trembling slightly though Tywin knew it wasn't from his daughter. "I'm afraid I've become immune to being treated in such a manner." She briefly met his gaze before looking down again.  _How did her mother do it? How did her sister do it? How could they go on and still be so strong?_

But Sansa knew how they had managed to forge themselves into such deities. _Family. Duty. Honor._  Sansa had never considered her mother's house words to be so strong before but now she would regard them as such.

Tywin nodded at the girl before moving to open the door for Sansa and slowly, she brushed past him and walked into the room, her pace somewhat reprimanded while she wandered further into the Lion's Den.

* * *

She'd lost count in the darkness, far too lost in her thoughts to recall how long she'd been down in the dungeons; days or weeks, she didn't know. Her cell was moderate and quite small, though it was livable and big enough for her to lurk in for the time being. Though, she mostly slept with nothing else to do, dreaming of her home. She sparred with her brothers and rode with her father but they had been long since dead and departed for the land of the living... but they lived in her dreams and they lived through her.

But she couldn't help but feel betrayed in a sense, they had abandoned her and left her alone - it was only her, her mother and Sansa and Arya now. However, thankfully the feeling of betrayal was outweighed by the feeling of love. She couldn't hate her family, there much was impossible.

As of late, she found herself dreaming more and more of her father, and Robb... it was comforting when she dreamed, seeing all her family together and living at peace; but within the serenity what she found most heartwarming was see her mother and Jon getting along... but dreams were different from reality. She was the heir to the North, the Queen of the North they now called her. It had been her duty to continue the family line, to rule the North from Winterfell. But she had forsaken that when she swore herself loyal to her brother, and it had been a worthy sacrifice in her eyes, an honourable and ethical cause to die for. Whatever Jaime had hoped for when he'd had her arrested, it seemed unlikely she would ever leave this place, never mind see her home again.

Eliana was certain she had been in the cells for little over a week with no visitors except her own thoughts and ghosts to comfort her in the darkness before finally she heard a muted rattling of the lock belonging to her cell door. A frown etched onto her face, she had heard no footsteps, no sound at all that would have surely sounded from the corridor outside.

The cell door swung open as a plump, robed figure stepped into view, though his face was shrouded by his black hood but Eliana knew who it was by his clothing choice and his plump form. "Varys." The bald man shot her a weary look, the hood falling back slightly to reveal his face. To say he was a friendly face would be an under-statement, he never rushed to aid her father yet she knew he could be trusted despite having his hand deep in secrets to stir the pot.

"Thank you for your aid, spider... give me as long as you can," Came the voice of Jaime and Eliana's heart felt as thought someone had punched through her chest to rip it free, but Varys turned on his heel and disappeared into the darkness, leaving them alone.

Jaime slowly stepped forward but the man she saw, was not the Jaime she had grown to found herself extremely fond of. He was transformed, his white armour of the Kingsguard gleaming like a beacon of light. His ragged beard was gone from his face, and his newly clipped golden hair shone. Jaime was painfully beautiful and it pained her to even admit that, and all that lingered of his captivity was the scars etched across his face and of course, his lacking a right hand.

The look of sadness on his face carved through her heart like a hot furnace. "Eliana, they refused to let me see you," He murmured, kneeling next to her as soon as Varys had disappeared from sight.

"You are Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, like you'd take orders from them." She replied, her voice somewhat distant and guarded, she would'nt allow herself to feel feeble, and she would not cry or whine.

Jaime nodded in agreement, "But that doesn't mean I can overrule the orders of the Queen Regent, as much as I can try..." Jaime replied softly, reaching his hand out to touch her.

To Jaime's dislike, she drew away from him, not wanting to feel his hot flesh upon her cool skin as she sat there freezing. His brow deepened and he knew he had made a terrible decision in choosing to have her arrested rather than have protected her himself, "I am sorry, truly, for all of this... all this chaos we could have avoided if I had thought this through." He didn't sound like himself Eliana didn't like it.

He was not Jaime, not the sarcastic Jaime with his ever-lasting smirk she found herself adoring. "What do you mean?" Eliana questioned, raising an eyebrow at him in wonder of his meaning.

"My sister knows of us..." He muttered, but he saw her confusion and he knew he had to explain. "The Maester - Qyburn, he informed my sister of our time shared together in Harrenhal but what he told her I cannot say for I don't know but she is furious."

Eliana wasn't in the mood for his own worries - she would soon have to fight for her life for the sake of her mother and sister and all he appeared to care about what losing his sister. "I can assure you, I am in not mood for game such as this Jaime." She growled, gritting her teeth, motioning for him to leave her as she turned away from him once more.

"You're to stand trial for Ser Humfry's death," Jaime whispered, though the softness his voice was laced with did nothing to suppress her growing irritation, "And treason as well."

"I expected as much," Eliana laughed breathlessly, "And I can't even defend myself... no witnesses, and no proof. Perfect, exactly ideal for you father, sister and son... another head to add to their growing gallery."

Ignoring her struggle, Jaime forcefully took her hand into his and squeezed it tightly, wanting nothing more than to take her away from there and give her the freedom she deserved but what made it worse was that Eliana couldn't bring herself to look upon him.

"When?"

Jaime hesitated.

"... In a couple of days," He replied, barely a whisper. "I believe you, I won't let them have you." Jaime urged, moving towards her and his heart jumping when he saw her smile at his words.

"If I had been in Humfry's position, faced with a traitor, I would have not hesitated in killing me." She confessed, wishing the man had done just that, but also she found herself surprised with knowing Jaime was willing to do everything and  _anything_  to protect her from harm.

"I am afraid I would have to disagree," Jaime contradicted the woman before him, "You have honour, more honour than anyone I have ever known before... you would have listened and weighed out your options carefully before coming to a conclusion."

Eliana couldn't listen to him compliment her anymore and instead she changed the subject, "I've heard Ser Loras is to marry your sister?" She pitied Loras for that. "Whose idea was that, the Tyrells or your father's?" She asked, unsure if he had understood her question... she knew Loras's sister, Margaery was to marry Joffrey but the purpose behind that engagement was obvious.

"My father's legacy, I suppose?" Jaime guessed vaguely. "Highgarden and the Rock must be united in all ways possible, I must admit I'm surprised he has not forged one for myself - I'm glad for my cloak otherwise I would be flung into the arms of another Tyrell..." He trailed off, not knowing what else to say upon the matter.

She tilted her head in question, "You don't... seem to mind." Eliana noted, slightly confused at his reaction and response to his sister's marriage.

Jaime didn't reply, instead he merely smiled at her, his hand tightening around hers.

"About your sister and Ser Daisy,"

Jaime's expression became unreadable once more, and she could see he was struggling with his reply, how to not hurt her. "I am her brother, I'll be sure to watch over while she is wed to that pillow biter just as I looked after her while she was wed to that great whoring, drunken cunt," He concluded, giving a shrug when he saw the way she was looking at him. "Not in the same way,  _not now_..."

The sound of voices floating down the corridor outside interrupted their conversation and Jaime looked afflicted as he moved to lean closer to her. "I don't know when I will next be able to visit you, Lia but I give you my word... I will free you and keep you save, whatever it takes." Jaime swore as the noise grew closer and closer. But even before Eliana could reply, Jaime was kissing her.

His lips lingered on hers, soft and warm not as chapped as they had been and soon he found himself pulling away and staring at her when he knew she didn't return the kiss but he knew why - it was not the right time, there would never be a right time for them.

"I'm sorry," He breathed, his head resting against her neck while he collected himself. "I wish we had more time... I swear to you that not harm will come to you, your mother or your sister."

He looked as though he wanted to say more, but before he could Varys had returned, "We must hurry, my lord." He urged, watching as Jaime turned to give her once last look.

When he was gone, Eliana drew her legs up, wrapping her arms tightly around as if to make the memory of him disappear if she was to remain at all sane in the days to come if she was to live. She would not allow herself to become so soft to allow a Lannister to pierce her armour, tarnish her pride.

 _Never_.

* * *

Her anger wavered slightly as she approached Tywin's solar, becoming all too familiar with the long walk to his room, and burst directly into the room unannounced. There was a host of red cloaks seated at his long table, who jumped at the sudden and unwanted intrusion of her arrival, but instead, Catelyn looked straight past them to spot the man seated at the head of it.

"A word, my lord," Catelyn demanded calmly, her eyes till trained upon his still form.

To her surprise, the Hand of the King merely waved his hand and dismissed his men casually, and waited until the room had emptied completely before he began to speak. Once they were alone, he slowly rose from his chair, his expression looking rather amused more than annoyed at her sudden interruption. "Lady Stark," Tywin's words oozed from his lips, slowly and compellingly. "I trust you and your daughter had a sufficient luncheon -"

Catelyn gave him a brief nod of her head, not wanting the thoughts of her reunion with Sansa to shroud her anger. "I've heard..." She doubted anyone had ever dared to cut him off in such a manner but she wanted - needed to know - what was to become of her daughter.

"Well, that it more than obvious," Tywin retorted, moving to stand directly before her. "Eliana is a traitor, a murderer, and awaiting the King's justice."

But Catelyn still found some questions floating around her mind,  _why she was spared, why had her daughter been_ , and all the other questions that swirl around her head more violently against her temple's walls. "Why were we not killed at the Twins, when Walder Frey-" She growled the name ferociously at him. "- Defied the laws of the guest-right and killed my son, his wife and unborn child?"

"Because unlike your son, Catelyn, I can acknowledge the value of women - you and your daughter are both key to the ruling the North, more so Eliana." His words cut like ice, chilling to the bone yet it scorched her like wildfire.

And soon enough she found herself moving to hit him - she moved fast, but he was faster, grabbing her arm before her fist could land on his face to injure him. His grip was brutal, his fingers bruising but that didn't mean Catelyn would retreat so easily. She was the daughter of Hoster Tully, the Lady of Winterfell, the Mother of the North... and after all she'd been through did not make her feeble. Trouts were the fiercest fish in the river, the Direwolves were solitary hunters and extremely intelligent... she could be both if need be.

They remained that way for a couple more seconds until he finally let go of her, allowing Catelyn to turn her back on him, squeezing her eyes shut as if to conceal her growing rage. When she did turn back to face him, she found him lounging in a chair with his eyes glued to her body, carefully eyeing her. But his eyes shone with something more... applause, maybe?

He gestured for her to sit down opposite him, though she narrowed her eyes in return but she still sank down into the chair sat opposite him. He was silent for a second, watching her with those eyes of his as if he was contemplating something. "I believe you want peace to the realm, do you not, Catelyn?" Tywin asked, making sure she was listening to him properly.

Catelyn snorted at the question, "You already know the answer - of course I do! Peace is the reason my son went to war, or have you forgotten how your grandson seized my husband, promised him mercy but still took his head anyway?" Catelyn was shaking with rage as castigated him, the entire Lannisters -  _the whole lot of them!_

His fingers drummed against his temple, as he smirked ever-so-slightly in thought. "But I do clearly recall that it was your capture of my son that triggered my daughter's action in the first place. Unless you believe something else happened?" He dared to challenge her.

"I suspected him of trying to kill my son! Anyone would have done the same!" She furiously exclaimed, discarding her chair to stand as her presence shook with vexation.

"From which, you had a small collection of proof." Tywin replied, waiting for her to sit back down before he continued. "You're just a she-wolf protecting her pups, family comes first - as your family would say...  _Family. Duty. Honour._ Catelyn, what if I told you there was a way for you to prevent the rest of your family from meeting the same fate your husband did? And perhaps, you could protect not only your daughters, but your brother, Edmure, as well?"

At the mere mention of her brother, Catelyn shook with dread. She hadn't heard anything of her brother since his wedding, only amusing that he had received the same fate as her son and his bannermen.

"You asked me if your brother lived... at this moment in time he does," Tywin confirmed with a swift nod and pausing, although, he refused to give Catelyn enough time to reply. "And I can assure you, there is a way that you can ensure your brother remains so, and your remaining children stay alive... even your eldest, for whom has been arrested for the murder of Ser Humfry and treason against the crown."

Catelyn blanched as the image of Eliana on the steps of the Sept of Baelor, her head sitting on a pike next to her fathers as her hair blew lifelessly in the breeze. As the thought flashed through her mind, her hand flew to her mouth as she shook the thought away. "How... ?" Catelyn whispered, only just loud enough for Tywin to hear.

"Your daughter will marry my son."


	31. Revelations

She wasn't expecting that... of all the things he could have spoken, that was the least she was expecting to come from his lips above all. _He already has one daughter and now he wants another?_ Catelyn's eyes flashed in his direction, not wanting to believe what she'd heard to be true. This was too much, she'd finally got her daughter's back and now he wanted to take them away?

She couldn't tell whether he was jesting with her or being genuinely serious about the proposal. "Exactly what could you say to convince me this is not some ploy?" She asked through ground teeth, holding back a snarl as she observed him.

"Catelyn, Eliana will marry Jaime."

Clasping his hands together, feeling the sweat run between the creases as he stared at Catelyn. "As you said before Catelyn, you lost the war - the North lost the war." Tywin stated, his voice levelled and calm which successfully sent chills rippling down her spine. "The Stark line can no longer be furthered, and the North is in chaos and ruin - Robb's bannermen have no leader, and will live to only protect their own houses from peril. Your homeland is besieged by lack of order, assailants and plunders... and as your brother continues to remain the captive of the Freys, his lands continue to crumble right before him and he is powerless to do anything; my point is, they remain... obstinate, refusing to pledge allegiance to the King."

"The Starks, Tullys and Arryns are all traitors, however, their armies are paramount if Joffrey is to remain on the throne... he needs all the Kingdoms." Tywin stated, his head dead and unwavering. "Stannis may have been defeated at the Blackwarer but they say he's gathering more men and ships as each day passes. I'll admit I sourly do not want to lose the throne to a Baratheon of all people, and to avoid that I'm going to need the men that rallied with your son and your brother. I know I cannot win them with gold, neither with threats of war and destruction but perhaps I can win them with her." Catelyn went to speak over him, annoyed more than anything but he put his hand up to silence her. "Do you realise how much power your beloved daughter holds if she were wise enough to use it to her advantage?"

Tywin knew what she was thinking, arguing silently,  _Cersei..._ "My daughter only rules through her son - or at least she did, when Robert reined it was what she could grasp away from him as he drunk and whored his way to an early grave, but as her son reigns it's gradually slipping away from her the bolder Joffrey grows... the Tyrells are clutching on, refusing to let go of the power they're gaining from our alliance but they all forget I am the sole power holder... they are nothing without me."

The mighty lion they called him, more mighty than Tytos... and Catelyn could see why,

"Eliana,  _yet_ … I would say she has the firm loyalty and love of three of the Seven Kingdoms, perhaps more even if I were to truly pester myself about it. She is a Stark born with Tully blood and the blood of the First Men flowing through her veins, the daughter of the North, the Mother of Ice... the Queen of the North. If she were not held prisoner here, I'd hazard to say she could round up thousands of men to avenge your family; the figurehead of thousands, an uprising." Tywin paused, wanting to allow his words to set in, "I was always told as a lad that gold would help you win power in war... my father was wrong, loyalty retains it. Who will the North and Riverlands rally to, if not the Queen in the North? However, with that being said, I am not willing enough to let that happen so I must put it to a just end before it's inception."

Catelyn felt achieved by his words, successful at worrying the man to the point where he had to establish another alliance to prevent a revolt against his family. She was satisfied in rendering him perturbed, and that she couldn't deny would bring a small smile to her face. "And what makes you think they will be so sure to follow her if she was to join you? How can you be certain she will not be labelled a traitor to her House - to her Houses?"

"Because she will have to persuade them...  _convince them_ , if you will." He replied sourly, sipping at his wine that he held securely in his hand, waiting for her reply with the feisty tone she so wanted to use upon him. "And if not, then I  _will_  make her."

But she was silent for a long moment, her entire face unreadable, even to Tywin who had a talent at penetrating people's souls. "Lord Tywin, I think you have perhaps neglected something that I think you should have realised by now..." Lady Catelyn stated, rising slowly from her sit to stand above the man who had caused her much grief. "Because of you... my son is dead, your daughter and grandson beheaded my husband when they'd sworn they would be merciful and I have one daughter missing, this war of yours is why my two youngest are dead - slaughtered in their own home. If you think she will ever forgive you for that, then, my lord, you are mistaken... terribly. Eliana will never agree to something as stupendous as this."

"I only require her hand in marriage... I care not for her forgiveness, and I will certainly not grovel, Catelyn." Tywin tilted his head to the side, his eyes laughing as he stared at her. "She is an astounding woman, Catelyn." She was certain of him complimenting her daughter, almost congratulating her on bringing up such a wonder but she couldn't be sure. "I believe it would be wasteful if a woman such as her were to simply dissipate when could go on to do great things when allied with the right people."

But Catelyn would not sell her into the Lion's Den, "My daughter has promised herself to Oberyn Martell, I believe you would not want to anger those of the South when you so desperately want to keep them in check... keep the peace you've been trying so desperately to uphold."

"Then we'll have to put them back into order... despite the consequences if needs be. I will  _not_ give in to a few stony Dornishmen."

* * *

Jaime was bitter and grumbling under his breath when he entered Tyrion's solar, not bothering to knock as the bitterness radiated from his body to warn his brother of his foul mood. Muttering like a mad-man, Jaime seated himself beside his brother, ignoring him as he spoke.

"I hear father wishes to see you, some of important business concerning Eliana." Tyrion called to his brother, though he got no reply. Tyrion simply raised his eyebrows and moved towards his pitcher and poured his brother out a generous cup of Dornish, gawping as he ripped the cup from his hand and drank. "I can see you're having a wondrous day... how I would love to ruin it." Tyrion muttered, more to himself rather than his brother, jumping as his brother then snatched his own cup away to drink that as well and so caused Tyrion to sigh in exasperation. "All right dear brother, reveal your grievous thoughts... I'm all ears."

"I can't see her."

Tyrion nodded in understand, moving to clasp his pitcher, "Utter no more," He refilled his cup and leaned into his chair, watching as his brother glanced around the room - probably appalled at the state; books strewn all over the place along with his belongings. "I have my own findings to inform you of before you wallow in your own pity and visit our loving father."

"What can be worse than not being able to see the woman you had arrested?" Jaime questioned, his eyes watery and tired as he tried to focus on his brother, feeling the wine warm him slightly. "They stopped me from entering the dungeons by order of the King, I put her there and I can't even see her." He spat, managing to contain his anger despite how much he wanted to scream and shout, rant and rave.

"She's quite intriguing is she not?" Tyrion smiled, knowingly. "I thought the same when I became acquainted with her." He drained another cup himself before continuing, his attention falling upon the markings of his cup. "What I'm about to tell you is not good... but you mustn't react in such a way I believe you may." He paused for another moment that almost tempted Jaime to persist once more. "Our sister has taken lovers - multiple lovers, three I know of... possibly more."

His expression became unreadable fairly quickly, and he put his brother's words down to his hatred for their sister - he'd always hated her but Cersei had begun her hatred first, tormenting him as a babe... he couldn't whether he was telling the truth or lying for the sake of it but even as it cast his gaze upon his brother's face he saw not dishonesty lurking there.

 _Was he telling it true?_  "Who has she bedded, brother?" He pressed lightly, his voice surprisingly calm.

"Lancel, that I am certain." Jaime laughed at his words, clearly not believing him now. "I know what you're thinking but the boy confessed to me himself... all right, I blackmailed him into divulging such things... my words are my weapons whereas your prefer an edged blade. But it seemed that our sister wasted no time in finding company for her bed once you'd fled the city."

He had no words, no witty remarks that would silence his brother. He felt as though someone had forced a knife through his stomach... while he was sat in chains and in his own shit, his sister had already neglected him and strayed, taking another man into her bed.

"Did you?" Tyrion wondered abruptly, throwing the question at his brother in that moment. It was Tyrion's turn to laugh at Jaime's clueless glance at his words. " _Oh_ , come on, brother!" Tyrion clasped his hands together, "Surely you must have at least been tempted to do such a thing to a beauty such as the Stark girl... please don't tell me you let her go to waste,  _please_." He sounded like a child whining in disappointment at his parents decision to not grant them something.

Jaime ignored his words, knowing that Tyrion already knew the answer to his question without needing to pry it from him. "Who else has she invited into that bed of hers?" He persisted finally, watching his brother grow dread ridden at his question. His reluctance was slowly eating away at him. Sighing, he growled under his breath. "You're worried I'll go straight to him and kill him, is that it, Tyrion? Well... as you can see, I don't think I'm up to much of doing anything with a sword."

"But that doesn't mean you won't try, brother, we both know of your temper... and it's the last thing we need." Tyrion took in a deep breath, he knew Jaime's pride was falling to pieces, but he knew he spoke the truth and that the truth always hurt. "She seems to have taken a fancy to sellswords from what I've heard, a few here and there but -"

"Sellswords... you're telling me she's lowered her standards to fuck sellswords?" Jaime exploded, his rage too much, thinking he couldn't feel much worse than he already was. "Surely you're mistaken... she's the Queen... she wouldn't?"

His brother replied with a mere shrug, "You'd be awfully surprised; Bronn pays them with my gold, and you know how men like to whisper as much as women when they're drunk..."

He felt sick to his stomach, Cersei had only ever belonged to him... never would she have allowed Robert to touch her so, not bearing anyone but her brother.  _Her lover_. Was it right to accuse her of such things without finding it out for himself? He couldn't settle upon refusing to believe it or feeling horrified with how true it sounded...

"Osmund Kettleblack, I am also certain of - his frequent absence doesn't go unnoticed through some eyes... it's quite obvious when you think about it - he's risen through so many positions of power all at once in such a short space of time. She might as well have fucked him upon the Iron Throne if she were that desperate for someone to discover her secret fetish."

"I refuse to believe it," Jaime vowed, still shaking his head. "You've always hated her, using your little japes and cruel games to gain points... you both wrestle with me, pulling me from one side to another, fighting over me as if I were a piece of meat." He muttered in fury, unable to compose himself as his blood boiled. "I love you both, dearly, yet I expected more from you Tyrion... not to attack her with such cruel rumours."

"Jaime! If you think I'm relishing in telling you this - I'm not! But would you have rather had me lie to you? Saying nothing as they paraded around in the very same cloak you wear -" Tyrion stopped abruptly as Jaime's remaining hand slammed against the table, knocking the wine cups over at his sudden aggression. "I'm not lying to you brother... I would never do that."

Even as his brother spoke, Jaime couldn't bring himself to look at him, his words wounding him deeply - his pride tarnished, wounded like the lion he was. He had to be lying, playing his own little game... but that didn't make it hurt any less. Whether it was true or not would remain until Jaime discovered it for himself, but it seemed that Tyrion certainly believed it. Shaking his head, his mouth fell into a grim line as Tyrion's gaze fell upon him, settling.

Tyrion said nothing more as Jaime continued to drink, the wine slowly disappearing from the pitcher and Jaime with it. He was surprised at how quickly his brother had discarded their sister - it was all about the Stark girl but he put it down to her life hanging dangerously in the balance. He also knew his heart ached when he couldn't see her, he couldn't even speak without growing angry of her imprisonment. Her trial was only four days away and he had every right to worry for her life, and there was no doubt that his brother was only blaming himself.

He knew it pained his brother to leave her down in the dungeons, though he knew Varys had helped him see her a few times, escorting him through the hidden passages and tunnels but what worried him was who Joffrey would choose as his champion on Ser Humfry's behalf.

From the gossip of his own little birds, Tyrion could confirm that Joffrey was undecided in choosing his champion, though he was certain he would be of the Kingsguard. Trant, perhaps? He wouldn't choose that git, he would keep him alive to spite his dwarf uncle... Kettleblack? He secretly hoped he would be chosen, though he had not seen the man in quite a long while... in fact, he found himself noticing Osmund's frequent absence, fucking his sister most likely but when he did dare show his face, the man fought with impressive delicacy; the gods had granted him a tall frame with a fortified, well-structured armour of muscle. His combat expertise was him being born strong along with a brutal force and arrogance for a personality, but he was quick for a man of his stature. But he was sure that control or regulation accompanied with a certain adroitness would beat the man down easily, and he knew Eliana had been blessed with both.

Osmund would be the definite choice - none other, Tyrion was sure.  _Why wouldn't he?_  Cersei had already granted him a position within the Kingsguard just like that, the click of her fingers, did she not think they would be discovered? Or did she not care? Tyrion just refused to believe she would throw away the bond she and his brother shared, one that he still found difficult to understand in fact, very little did...  _but why would she push Jaime aside just like that?_

He loved his brother more than his sister and father both, the only one who had actually loved him during his life's torment... so he would help her for his brother, he would make sure Eliana was ready for the trial and ready she would be.

The brothers glanced up as a Lannister guard entered the room, unannounced and rather rudely in Tyrion's eyes. "Yes?" He called, frowning at the man before downing the last of his wine, shaken at the sudden intrusion and abrupt bringing from his thoughts.

However, he merely turned to his brother. "Lord Commander, the Hand of the King requests your presence immediately... I'm here to escort you to the Tower of the Hand."

* * *

He choked on his words, gaping at his father in utter perplexity. He delayed his response,  _hoping_ ,  _wishing_  and  _praying_  that by some miracle his father was messing with him... but he knew his father was never one to joke. He knew the blood had drained from his face, the pit in his stomach groaning as he shook in frustration...  _no, not now... this couldn't be happening_. He couldn't be thrown into more problems that would only anger the remaining Starks even more; he'd experienced their wrath and he didn't want to again.

"You mean for me to marry Eliana?" Jaime blurted, his eyes falling wide in desperation as if hoping for another set of different words to fall from his mouth.

Tywin closed his eyes in irritation, "You will do your duty to your House, Jaime, even if I must force you to do so... I've discarded enough of my life to seeing my eldest son forsake his duty, and instead fight within the Kingsguard." Tywin explained, his voice firm and unwavering. "Now, Lady Eliana, her husband will gain Winterfell and I will not forsake that for some Martell to sit there, none other than a Lannister shall sit within its walls." Tywin knew that Jaime would rather be chased through all Seven Hells before agreeing to marrying anyone... but Eliana wasn't anyone.

"There must be someone else… not me, why does it have to be me?" Jaime persisted, growing only more frustrated with his dilemma.

His father scoffed at that, "And who would I have in control of Winterfell rather than my own son? They need someone will be dynamic, assertive and authoritative, someone they could fear." He paused, eyeing his son as he sat with his arms slain across his chest defiantly. "You are the heir to the Rock, and when I am dead you will be Lord of Casterly Rock and Winterfell."

Cry of laugh, he didn't know which seemed the better option.  _Lord of Winterfell?_  Legacy had taken its toll upon his father, sending him power hungry, their family was of the greatest wealth and power combined in all the Seven Kingdoms, yet, his father was still not content.

"Eliana Stark's beauty may be tarnished yet she is still beautiful, and suitors will line up before long. It won't be hard to wed and bed her." Tywin expressed, getting up and pouring himself a glass of wine.

 _Bed her?_  Bile rose within his throat at the words,  _I've already done that…_  He could see fate was as harsh as the northern winter. "Father, you can't expect me to marry. I'm of the Kingsgaurd! I'm a sworn brother, sworn to protect the King for life!" He was losing the fight, Jaime knew, he could neither swindle or sway his father as much as he could try. "Do you wish to dishonour me more than I already am?"

"Nonsense, you will do your duty to your family and marry the girl... you will be pardoned by the King and the High Septon, and then you will  _once_  again become my heir to the Rock and to Winterfell." Tywin placed Jaime's glass in front of him, giving him stern look that called for obedience. Jaime took the glass and downed it within seconds, sighing in resignation.

"Have you consulted my siblings on this? Have you spoken to Cersei... she won't be pleased about this..." Jaime began to ramble on and on, his nervousness getting the better of him.

"I am the only one in this family whom cares of our family legacy! I will not see us disappear and die out like the Reynes!" Tywin roared, bringing his hands down upon his desk in one swift movement. "You  _will_  marry the Stark girl after I rule her innocent in her trial, and you  _will_  put a son in her and then you  _will_  return to the Rock where you rule as Lord...  _now_ , leave me."

Within the deserted corridors, Jaime gliding swiftly as his mind drowned with his father's words... he didn't know whether to be full of dread or excited at the fact he would marry Lia but he knew he needed to consult his sister, Cersei needed know and soon he found himself going in search of her.

His body froze as he heard his sister's unmistakable moans -  _how could he not?_  He'd bedded her enough times to know what she sounded like. Fury rose within him as the moaning infected his ears and instinctively, Jaime found himself reaching for his sword until he realised he was missing his sword hand, though, he knew he couldn't kill a man his sister was fucking unless he wanted to out their own relationship to the realm. Trying and failing to compose himself and frightened, Jaime quickly strode from his place in the hall.

He'd been lied to - deceived, swindled, cheated - by the person he loved above all others, who he thought had loved him equally in return. He could picture her in her room... that sellsword fucking her while entangled in each other, rutting like animals.  _After everything, after all we'd been through together and she'd cheated him, lied to him..._ All her crimes that he'd chosen to ignore than than question, realising how foolish he'd been.

Her disgust in his maiming had been evident as soon as she'd laid her eyes upon his crippled form... he was useless to her, and she had no use for him. He wasn't perfect anymore, he was ruined - tarnished, flawed... riddled with scars and a hideous stump to match.

Eliana had been right.

Tyrion had been right.

Two of the people he trusted most had tried to tell him but he had not listened. Cersei had used, twisted him and had broken him, more than the loss of his sword hand had... and he knew what he would do, he knew how he would get back at her. He would marry Eliana without a fuss, he would wed her willingly and leave for Casterly Rock, never to look back upon King's Landing, he'd be the heir his father wished him to be.  _Eliana will be my wife,_ the mere thought made him giddy strangely? He always denied the idea of marriage, stating he wasn't suited for marriage but perhaps she would give him the love and affection he deserved as he knew he would never receive it from his sister.

 _Not now_.

Jaime ripped the door to Tyrion's solar open, his brother not even bothering to glance upwards in greeting as he entered the room. "Is this part where I congratulate you or console you?"


	32. The Imp and his Squire

A week.

An entire week he had to wait before he heard from her, before she begged his presence. He used the endless time he had wallowing in his own grief of leaving Eliana in the dungeons. He wanted to continue to wait her out, to see if his sister would come to him but Jaime was well aware that with his sister being Cersei, that would never occur. He was to meet her in her chambers.

She'd summoned him like a dog, yet he came willingly enough as he found himself arriving outside her door just as he had done a two nights before. He admitted he was afraid, afraid he was picture them at it as he stood talking to her. But pushing his nervousness aside, Jaime finally strode into the chamber discarding the courtesy to knock.

She was her bay window, looking out over the sea while her golden air danced down her back. When she turned to face him, he felt his breath hitch in the back of his throat, her green eyes gleaming with a new glint he didn't recognise. Cersei looked so delicate and frail, less the women he remembered. She considered him, her eyes lingered upon the air where he hand ought to have been.

He didn't stay from his place near the door, irritated with her beyond belief and also, he was afraid that if she were to say the wrong thing... and he couldn't bear for her to look at him when she'd invited other men into her bed, allowing them to touch her, pleasure her...

Her eyes were slowly ghosting over his body still, "Why didn't you come to me?" She frowned, coldness seeping into her voice as her eyes fell upon his face once again, unwavering this time.

"I had other things that demanded my attention," Jaime replied curtly, if he was truthful with himself he was tired of being the one to always go in pursuit of her, though his words sounded like a lie in his own mind. He didn't know how tell comprehend to tell her why he had not wanted to go to her after endless nights of debating the very same thing.

"You've brought home a pack of wild dogs, apparently," Cersei sighed, her tone serene, however her eyes still appeared to be watching as if he had been born of Ned Stark's seed; a traitor.

 _Wild dogs..._ His remaining hand slowly crawled into a fist, his knuckles glowing white with fury. "Lia is no dog," He scolded, feeling as though he should protect his lady,  _his lady?_  "Never say that about her, she brought me back to you."

Pursing her lips, Cersei looked displeased at hearing him defend Eliana with such devotion, and how weak it had been. " _Not all of you_." She commented with a shrug of her shoulders, wanting it to hurt him, wound him. "Well, she's to stand trial for Humfry's murder."

And it did as it was meant to, his punishment for speaking so truthful about another woman, his punishment for being from her for so long and it had not even been his fault - he could've died, but he doubted she would've truly cared if she had others warming her bed for her at night.

Disdain flashed within her eyes, "You saw to your little bitch, but you couldn't even be bothered to come and see me, Jaime." Cersei informed him, her voice sounding so petulant that he almost dared to laugh. Fortunately he stopped himself in time to realise she was being utterly serious, and there was a dangerous glint in her eye.

"She won't die for his murder, sister, I put her there for protection... she will not die." Jaime assured his sister, knowing that she had not see Eliana fight. He just couldn't wait to watch the smirk of victory be wiped cruelly from her face and he would relish every moment. "And once she wins, she can go on her way." Though as he said that, he knew Eliana would be going nowhere and he wouldn't let her go anywhere.

Cersei didn't believe the words that had fallen from his mouth, she knew why he had not come to visit her, and for some reason she believed enough of the rumours to suspect he was interested in someone such as a traitor, a Stark. "I assume you've had your share of whores to warm your bed rather than coming to visit me." She glowered, revealing her own invulnerability.

He knew what she was trying to get at, knowing his behaviour was far different when compared with how it had once been. Obviously, Cersei was seeking reassurance and devotion, evidence that he still loved her... but even Jaime didn't know the answer to that anymore. He wished he did.

Clearly unhappy by him still choosing to defend a Stark, Cersei wasted no time in changing the subject. "Have you spoken with father?"

"Yes," Jaime nodded, deciding whether to tell his sister of his own betrothal, wanting to see how she would react to him accepting it with an open heart. Jaime didn't even feel as though he belonged in King's Landing anymore, he felt adrift and cut off... he'd been in chains too long, but long enough for them to take their toll on him.

"Well you need to become aware again, Joffrey's wedding is soon and we need to expect everything from the Tyrells...  _everything and anything_." Cersei warned, her eyes glowing hazardously.

"What's she like, the Tyrell girl, Margaery?" Jaime mused comically, recalling her somewhere. "Wasn't she the one who married Renly?"

Cersei grimaced and turned her attention back to the water, allowing him to look at fully. She was still as pleasing to the eyes but he felt a weight lifted off his shoulders when he found he didn't have the urge to kiss her. "She's an aspiring, wicked little bitch from Highgarden." She hissed.

"Well, quite frankly I'm surprised you aren't the closest of friends... it appears you have much in common."

His sister shot her a ferocious glare. "I don't trust her... she doesn't love Joffrey, no one can love him apart from me but he seems besotted with her just as much as the peasants are. Their marriage will bring our House into ruin before father comes to his senses and realises his mistakes." She growled, the rage almost threatening to burst from the seems.

Jaime didn't understand why she cared so much as stupid little things such as power, some had it and other's didn't.

"Sansa was malleable yet feeble... so easily manipulated to my use.  _Foolish girl_ , too blind to reality and lost in a world of fantasy but Margaery isn't as naive and she will ruin him." "But now she's been thrown into claws of our little creature of a brother... I'll admit I  _actually_  feel sorry for the little dove being stuck with that little lech..." Cersei trailed off but soon she was laughing to herself, a cruel laugh that he knew all too well when concerning their brother. "Though it is quite amusing; he refuses to bed her until she comes to love him. He's deluded to think that will ever happen."

When had his sister become this twisted being so full of hate... he didn't know what to say to her, just hoped that she would subside in abusing their little brother. Suddenly, his mind flew to Eliana, knowing that she admired his odd little brother.  _Tyrion has a kind heart and a shrew knowledge that is ever intriguing._ At least he'd found someone else that valued his brother as much as he. His poor brother, neglected by his family.

Jaime wished he'd just gone to the dungeons instead to check to see if Eliana was still there, alive and breathing, wanting to kiss her and tell her she would be free soon enough.

She cleared her throat, drawing him back from his dream state to look over at her once more. "Anyway, I expect a full apology on the morrow or whenever your little bitch dies... don't look like that, frowning doesn't suit you. She killed a man sworn to the King, she's a traitor and she will die," Cersei went on out of spite.

"You forget sister, in a trial there are two outcomes; death or life; innocence or guilt."

"There will be a trial and she will most likely die."

"Lia did nothing wrong, I assure you of that! You refer to as some beast, a  _dog_! She is not!" Jaime exclaimed, agitated with her persist scolding of the woman who had not wronged her in any way - the claim seemed rather illogical in his eyes, yet from the scowl plastered across her face, Jaime knew he had misspoken.

" _Oh_ , get out... you're boring me by your constant bleating like a lamb, you're a lion for Gods sake. I thought we were the only ones that mattered and now you're forsaking that for some traitorous cunt?" She inquired, her voice lowering as each second passed, malice turning her voice sour. "You're not  _you_... not the same, not your usual self... not  _my_  Jaime."

Sorrow and malice danced through her words, yet, Jaime still couldn't tell if she was being genuine or just plain patronising. He turned swiftly, wishing he'd never come - Eliana didn't deserve punishment of him coming to care about her, and neither would he let Cersei have her killed - she was not his sister any longer, she changed... for the worse.

"It seems I've finally stopped living in the lie you created."

* * *

_No auburn curls and no blue eyes..._

She felt a rush of cool air greet her before she opened her eyes- however, Eliana was surprised to see no hooded Varys in disguise but a little man whose body swayed with every step he took that his legs allowed him, peering up at her with his mismatched eyes. Eliana didn't know whether to be filled with relief or to drown with stress.

"I wondered when I would be seeing you, Tyrion." She spoke lightly, while Tyrion flashed her a smile that strained the scar painted across his face, pulling it taut but she couldn't bring herself to return it, instead, she found herself wondering where Jaime was and why his brother had come in his stead.

Though, when Tyrion next spoke Eliana unexpectedly burst into laughter. Tyrion knew why, it wasn't the most ideal thing he could've spoken at that moment, knowing it would improve her mood. "How are you?"

"In the morning, I could either be alive and free or lying dead and meeting my family on the other side."

"Of course," Tyrion nodded, understanding she had every right to feel that way, "I trust you'll request for a trial by combat, yes?" He titled his bulbous head slightly while he regarded her, deciding her scar was far more prettier than his was, his gaze roaming over her arms and legs to see the gallery of muscles visible.

Eliana merely nodded, "Yes."

He sighed, "Very good, otherwise these would have been a complete waste of my money." He clapped his hands and called out for his squire  _Pod_  - a boy with shaggy, inky hair and a plum face who stumbled through the door not a moment later, his face red as a blood orange while he carried what appeared to armour.  _Armour?_ Tyrion's eyes narrowed at Pod, "Greaves and Vambraces, Pod?" He chided with an amused smirk, "And the helm?"

Wiping the sweat off his face, Podrick glanced at Tyrion and sighed. "I was just about to bring them in, my lord." He replied, his voice surprisingly confident for a squire which Eliana didn't quite expect as he set down the armour to rush back out of the cell to grab the rest.

As Podrick was retrieving the rest, Tyrion hauled the breastplate up for her to see, though he seemed to wrestle with it as it nearly stood a tall as him. On the breast, wrought and gilded, was the Direwolf of House Stark, sat bearing its teeth in the light.

Even the pauldrons had the imprint of the direwolf, the joints of the armour Tully blue, and she knew that it must have cost a great deal, probably more expensive than anything else she had ever owned before.  _Was Jaime trying to soften her? Or was Tyrion trying to buy her?_ The things that Lannister gold could buy; little or large, it mattered not.

Eliana was at a loss for words as she gawked at the craftsmanship, utterly unable to speak from awe at the sight. It was a shimmering black shade then glowed silver when the light hit it, almost reminding her of fish scales that did the exact same thing when caught in sunlight.

"I hope the measurements are correct... " Tyrion wondered aloud, still smiling as he watched her study the armour. The gift made her suspicious, but she knew Tyrion was known for his strange kindness despite his horrible life, her held no disgust for her being a traitor... even his brother once looked upon her in that way, but Tyrion never did.

"I must confess, a part of myself feels responsible for leaving you down here in the darkness and chill, especially as your sister is now my lady wife." Tyrion continued, distinguishing any conclusion that the amour was from his brother.

"Sansa?" Eliana frowned, not familiar with what she was being told which only made Tyrion chuckle with slight anxiety.

"I thought my brother would've have the decency to inform you of the situation: an arranged marriage, another wondrous plan of my loving father - because people would start worry if a beautiful young woman such as your sister would  _ever_ choose me for her husband now wouldn't they... because as you can see I'm  _not_  exactly desirable." He gestured to his scarred face.

"If you think this gift will buy me, then I'm afraid -"

"I'm trying to help you live a little longer, damn you." He chastised harshly, "But to also realise that you  _need_  to get your sister away from here... it's too dangerous for such a beauty." He paused, hold her gaze contently. "Joffrey has tormented her beyond repair, he ordered her beaten by his Kingsguard as punishment for treason - the sins of your father and brother alike."

Shaking his head, he stepped closer towards her. "My words and position are the only thing that protects her while she's here... but I'm puny, I'm not a knight of valour. She needs a protector like  _you_... a woman with your stature would never strike an innocent because your King commanded it so."

"What do you know of me?" She demanded of him, her eyes growing into slits. "Robb was my king, he was the only King I ever meant to bend my knee to, I would've done whatever he had commanded of me." She replied gravely with a heavy heart.

"Would've he ordered you to strip a girl bare 'til her nakedness and beat her bloody before the court as punishment for her kin's actions?" Tyrion challenged, his voice rising.

Eliana was there now, it was her sworn duty to protect Sansa with her life, serving her mother by shielding her sister from harm and more so, the wrath of the King than anything else. But she couldn't force the fury that rose within her as Tyrion dared to compare Robb with Joffrey. "Don't you dare compare my brother to that little shit."

Tyrion nodded his head in understanding. "And what of your other sister, the one that escaped the city when your father was beheaded? All the spies in the Seven Kingdoms cannot even locate her, her fate is- "

"Arya is alive... she saw our brother being paraded around like the dead carcass of animal at the Twins." Eliana informed Tyrion with a thick voice, almost impaired with emotion, speaking differently unlike she had been before.

Tyrion nodded once more, "I think it's wonderful that she's alive but Sansa needs you  _now_. Here. In King's Landing, and alive... preferably."

Eliana held his gaze and she thought on his words, her lips pursed tightt in thought. "There is no absolute guarantee I will win my trial," She breathed evenly, weighing out her chances.

Tyrion simply gestured to the armour he had gifted her with. "Well, hopefully now you have a fair chance of staying alive, and if you're unable to defeat one of my sister's dim sellswords you might as well already be dead." Tyrion concluded while he eyes shone. "No one will want to take you on if they're smart, believe me - no matter the gold on offer to them." He smirked at his own words, knowing of her strength and prowess in battle.

"You've not trained with sword in a few weeks, are you still proficient?"

She cracked the bones in her knuckles once the air had seeped back into them. "I won't be using a sword, Tyrion, a spear is much more suitable in a combat such as one I'll be facing. If my opponent is to be of the Kingsguard - he will be slow with the armour he will be wearing, I need to be quick if I am to get him flat on his back."

Tyrion gestured to the armour, "It shouldn't be too heavy; I know how you like to dance about rather than stand still, it will not wear you down, or at least that was what I was assured before purchasing it." He told her, while Podrick re-emerged and set down the remaining parts to the set of armour, the sweat swimming in small pools at the base of his neck.

Reaching for the helm from where it sat in the pile, Eliana ran her fingers over the finely crafted headpiece, not knowing how to thank the dwarf, truly. She found herself laughing at what shape it took; a wolf. The dwarf was truly something else all together. "If I am victorious, I intend to stay here until I have my vengeance and until I've seen my sister to safety. She needs me now and I shall watch over her."

Tyrion was beaming stupidly at her when she found his eyes again. "Good to know." He clasped his hands together, noting that she did not return his smile. "Once you're free I'll have chambers prepared near your lady sister. We will sup together after your victory; Lady Sansa, myself and you, your Lady mother - oh, and Jaime of course, I'm sure he won't be able to retain himself once you have won."

 _Perhaps it wasn't as hopeless as she originally thought._ "I accept your invitation."

"Wonderful!" Tyrion declared, content with knowing she was intent on fighting until the bitter end. "Come along Pod, let us leave Lady Eliana while she prepares... don't think too much." He pulled on Pod's arm, pushing him out of the cell door before moving to follow him yet he soon turned back before choosing to disappear into the darkness. " _Oh_...and you won't die."


	33. How do you plead?

 

They came for her around dawn, she guessed, unable to actually know from the darkness of her cell. She'd eaten nothing, and her stomach refused to settle as they marched her across Traitor's Walk, the manacles on her wrists weighing heavy as they rushed her along.

Eliana wasn't afraid of the trial, of them deciding whether she was to be judge innocent or guilty, neither death, though she was concerned of the fight to come. And she knew she would not accept being forced to kneel before the Usurper King and pledge her innocence to him when he had no claim was the part that rallied her insides. Performing was something she wasn't willing to do, and perform she would not.  _Put the sword in my hand and let us be done with this._

The doors were hauled open as she was forced forward into the great hall by the guards at her back, through a large crowd of people who had been seated beneath the ugly iron chair. Silence hung in the air, tyrannical and repressive, the clatter of her chains clinking rung out eerily. Above them all he sat in golden and crimson upon the iron throne, twisted and deathly as it had always been, no less hideous for the boy King to sit upon.

On his left sat his mother, the Queen Regent with her golden her that cascaded around her shoulders to fall around her face elegantly as her face took its usual icy toll. On his right stood his grandfather, Tywin Lannister, donned in black and red with his golden pin lying upon his right breast.  _The Hand of the King._ She was surprised to see he was not glaring at her like all the others had when she'd entered the room.

Drawing closer, the crowd started their murmuring, low but not quiet enough for her to not hear. It wasn't the gossip of the streets, she was being forced before a noble court of lords and ladies, highborns. Was it for her crimes or because of her maiming? She didn't know, nor did she care. Eliana watched them with her head held high, looking at each and every one of them as she passed; there was no crime she'd committed, and she owed them no penance.

In the centre of it all stood the wooden platform where she would stand for the duration of the trial, isolated from everyone and everything to stand alone and face her judgement. She clenched her hand out of irritation, wishing they would just get on with it instead of letting the charade continue. She was sick and tired of being made the fool.

Her eyes glanced around the room, unable to keep still until she found her mother in the crowd. She looked well, she'd eaten and didn't appear to look as deathly as she had the days before... they'd been treating her well, and hopefully that wound of hers was on the mend. Below her stood Tyrion with Pod waiting at his side. However, she frowned when she couldn't spot Sansa.  _Was she not here? Why?_  But she left the questions unanswered as Tywin began to speak.

"Eliana Stark," the Hand of the King spoke, and the murmurings of the crowd were silenced immediately, he needed not to even raise his voice. His pale green eyes bored into her as he regarded her. "You stand accused of the murder of the Commander of the Dragon Gate, Ser Humfry Waters. The sentence for such a crime can only be death," Tywin continued, his voice was affluent and intense, his words echoing throughout the room. "How do you plead?"

 _If death is the only outcome, why ask my own verdict if it matters not?_ Eliana was almost tempted to say she was guilty, just to see their reaction but she paused when she spotted her mother once again and so, she decided against it and chose the safer option. "I am innocent, my lord," Seeing her mother gave her heart and she coughed to clear her throat before repeating herself. "I am innocent."

She looked so fragile and dainty, which Jaime thought was impossible. She was too honourable to appear such a way, the accusation seemed to diminish her fire, even with stood upon an elevated platform though, Jaime could still spot the pride she held herself with, refusing to let that go to pot. She wasn't far from him... he had tried to keep away, to lurk in the shadows and be forgotten but that had not happened. He felt the strange and sudden impulse to be near her, for her to see him and know that he believed.

As Tywin continued to raise his question, it seemed to only increase Eliana's fire.

Jaime simply watched as the pair conversed, secretly hoping for her to spare him glance, but that didn't happen as she and his father argued back and forth with one another.

It was his final question that truly made her lose control of her rage. "And what of your birth? You were of the seed of a traitor?" Tywin had asked it for that reason alone, for her reaction and therefore allow him the upper hand and that's exactly what she did.

"My father was no traitor!" She beared her teeth, not caring if she'd spat for she was too angry to give a second thought. "Truly, I wish I was the monster you think I am, but I apologise dearly for I am not! I'm merely protecting what remains of my family, to stop them from being murdered like the others have!" Eliana roared at him, making Joffrey jolt backwards at the change in tone of her voice. "We're all the same! Fighting for what we believe in, what we see right.  _I'm guilty_ , is that what you want to hear?  _I'm guilty?!_  Guilty of what? Of being born a Stark and not a Lannister?"

Tyrannical and lingering, the silence fell once again. No one dared speak, though there were upon their lips they wished to say.

Satisfied they were going to take her seriously, she continued, her tone more controlled as she went to speak. "I'll get no justice here so I will let the gods decide my fate... I demand a trial by combat!" Her voice didn't tremble, though a ripple of mutters erupted into the room, but as soon as Tywin turned to glower at them, they settled.

Catelyn, though she knew it was to happen, couldn't help but gasp at her daughter's rage and demand. Her eyes flew to Tyrion, who was grinning at her words, relishing at his father being bested by someone who wasn't him. "I didn't expect her to act in such a way..." She whispered, her voice rough and chilled.

"I expected no less..." Tyrion admitted with a shrug, "It's the dungeons, you see, they bring out the worst in people."

Tywin moved forward as he nodded his head, "The court has no reason to deny your request, though Ser Humfry is not present to name his own champion given you murdered the man," Tywin said, casting a glance around the room.

However, almost immediately after he'd spoken Joffrey had piped up. "Ser Humfry is dead, so as father of the Realm I will name his champion!" Joffrey announced gleefully, far too eager for anyone's liking.

Jaime cringed at his son's words, at how eager he was to fulfill the problem, it made him sick to his stomach and he didn't know what to expect with such a turn of events.

He waved his hand for him to continue, to save the delay for another time and coward. "Speak for him then," Tywin replied, looking rather bored by his grandson's antics.

"His champion shall be Ser Gregor of House Clegane," Joffrey declared, rising from his chair.

The blood drained from Jaime's face at Joffrey's words, though his eyes automatically found his brother's in the crowd. Their expressions were mirrored; grim lines for lips and panic stricken, even the crowd had begun their murmuring when his name had been called.

Gregor Clegane was in the Riverlands murdering with his band of assailants. The Mad Dog was tearing down hold fasts and anyone who dared revolt against their father. He became aware of Cersei's eyes on him and turned, almost wincing at the satisfaction on her face. Evidently his feelings at the announcement had not been well masked, and she delighted in seeing the reaction from him.

It took more than a stern look to quiet the crowd's excitement this time.

"Silence!" Joffrey whined, his petulance reflected that of the hushed audience as well, his high voice echoing through the hall as the silence fell. "My grandfather is about to speak!"

"Ser Gregor is in the Riverlands, the trial by combat is to be held on the morrow and he will not arrive in time..." Tywin conceded dully, not even bothering to turn to look at his grandson. "Choose another."

Joffrey's gaze flickered upon his Kingsguard, his eyes ghosting over them until they settled upon the man who stood gaunt and exultantly. "Ser Osmund." He called cruelly, a smirk twisting onto his lips.

"Ser Osmund of House Kettleblack," Tywin repeated stiffly, watching as the man removed his helm.

The man marched just before where Eliana stood and knelt before Joffrey as he sat upon his throne, "It is an honour to be named as your champion, Your Grace." He bowed his head.

Tywin sighed, glancing at Eliana. "And Lady Eliana, who will be your champion?"

Jaime pitied her, truly, wishing he was in her stead if it meant he didn't have to watch her face such an ordeal that he'd caused in the first place. It wasn't fair, cruel even...

"I am my own champion," Her voice was unyielding and vigorous as she replied shortly.

Joffrey screwed his face up in distaste, "But... you're a  _woman_."

"And you are a boy." Eliana stated curtly, rolling her eyes at his childish behaviour.

Joffrey sat forward in his throne, gripping the sides with his fingers, as if he was about to take off. "Kneel before your king..." Joffrey provoked her petulantly, wanting her to react but with anger, yet she didn't yield to him.

Instead, she lent against the wood and sighed deeply, as if willing to share a conversation with him. "In the North, we're not accustomed to kneeling to boy's who have no claim over what they call  _their's_. You are no King of mine, to me you are just a malicious shit whom didn't even fight during the war. You say you won the war... and you didn't even fight." She paused immediately, watching in delight as his mouth fell agape in disturbance. "You're a coward."

"I am the King!"

"Any man who says  _I am the King_  is no true King." She concluded dryly.

That was enough to set Joffrey off, his sword was ripped from his sheath and aimed at her. "I said, KNEEL!"

"Threatening someone while they're chained against their will? Where's the gods justice in that?" Eliana asked, smirking at she saw his inner conflict. "I watched my kin die on the battlefield, I saw my family die around me while you sat cowering behind your walls, while everyone else did all the work. But  _winter is coming_ , and when it does... there will be no southern walls left. That throne you sit yourself upon, it belongs to Stannis Baratheon. You have no claim, Joffrey."

Looking to his guards for aid, Joffrey exclaimed. "Behead her for treason!"

It was Eliana's turn to laugh, "How can it be treason if I never owed you any allegiance?"

Joffrey was about to speak again in retaliation of her words, though they were true and told no lie, however Tywin managed to silence him before he allowed himself to shout and embarrass himself even more. Joffrey was not as adept with words as Eliana was. "Enough!" He roared, rising in agitation of their quarrel that had escalated so swiftly.

"The King is right; you are a woman," Tywin Lannister observed plainly as laughter erupted from the crowd once more that made Jaime seethe. "No woman has ever proposed to fight as a champion before."

"Is there a law against it? If I am to let the gods decide, why shouldn't I be my own champion? If they condemn me guilty, then I will die."

Jaime smiled at her words; no one had ever spoken to his father in such a way, except perhaps Tyrion, but that was with the confidence of wine as well, Eliana had more faith in herself than anyone would've assumed. Laughter erupted again, but neither Lannister's rushed to silence the crowd, instead Joffrey sat smirking, obviously enjoying every moment.

Clearly she was meant to be seen as a laughing stock, yet, it appeared to not shatter her boldness. As Jaime glanced at each and every one of them, he felt his rage boil over and soon he was shouting himself. "I am her champion!"

Suddenly Jaime was striding forward, not caring at the looks his was shot and spared, both of pity and of laughter. Slowly but surely, Jaime made his way to stand beside his lady, meeting his father's gaze at once with his own emerald orbs. He wouldn't leave her alone in this, he put her in the mess and he wouldn't leave her to fend for herself.

Tywin's jaw tightened with irritation, and Jaime half expected him to explode, but people were watching him and if he dared humiliate his son and heir he would only humiliate himself all the more. The silence stretched on and on uncomfortably, not even Joffrey twitched instead his continue his lounging upon the throne until Tywin finally spoke, his voice wooden and hoarse. "Ser Jaime of House Lannister."

Beside her son Cersei sat with her lips pursed once more, her eyes were narrowed as she eyed her brother, clearly unimpressed by his attempt to act valiantly.  _For once Cersei, I have no intention of trying to get your attention, I know better now._  But, he felt gratified to see the smile of victory had been wiped straight off her face.

From where they stood, Catelyn glanced at the Imp when he chuckled under his breath. "Why are you laughing, this is no laughing matter." Catelyn noted, her voice hard and stern as she observed him harshly.

"She won't let him champion for her..." Tyrion laughed to himself, having discussed the matter with her earlier.

Eliana glared at him, hissing but he simply smirked at her with his brilliant arrogance that Eliana hated. She couldn't believe he would do such a thing.  _If I die in this, she dies... and perhaps we'll meet again, meet again and kill me on the other side,_  he mused wryly. "Don't fret, My Lady." He replied softly, reaching for her hand before turning to his father, "My Lord, I will stand champion for Lady Eliana, willingly and proudly."

His father's glare would have reduced and ordinary man to tears, however, Jaime was bold yet reckless. It appeared he had disappointed his father his entire miserable life, from the moment he joined the Kingsguard it seemed but he wanted to change that, for the greater good.

Tywin knew he couldn't reject his son's bold proposal, knowing it would reflect badly... there was little he could do, only hope that Eliana would be logical and decide against it like he knew she would. He had no other play, he just needed Eliana to comply with his thoughts.

His father barely spared him another glance, "Do you accept Ser Jaime Lannister as your champion, Lady Eliana?" He inquired, challenging her to take his bait, knowing that his son's unforeseen declaration would all be wasted if she were to say no... he knew Eliana didn't need a man to come to her rescue and he saw the distaste upon her features when he did.

He'd planned for some ilk such as this to emerge but he had not expected if from his firstborn son of all people, yet, she told him what he wanted to hear.

"I do not need, nor do I want you to fight my quarrels Jaime," She hissed, her eyes glowing at Jaime dangerously, showing she would not be swayed so easily as Jaime had thought.

Jaime wanted to argue at her words, wanting her to believe that he would win it for her, win it for the both of them, though his father didn't give him the chance as he was speaking once more.

"Lady Eliana?"

She glanced at Tywin defiantly, and her next words must have flown with the confidence of faith alone when she'd come to her decision, steadily speaking with a dribble of ruthlessness lacing her words. "No, I do not. As I said before, I intend to be my own champion... I am my own champion."

"Then you shall need to ready yourself on the morrow for noon, that is when you shall face Ser Osmund Kettleblack to determine your fate."


	34. Retribution

He didn't believe in the Old Gods, neither did he believe in the New - they'd never listened to him before but even as he crossed the courtyards, he couldn't help but think they may listen if he was to plea for her life... for the daughter of the North to live and survive her trial by combat.

There was a chill in the air, it had been too long since he had looked to the gods for anything, he'd never been pious, never one to preach and beg for their guidance... he didn't owe them anything. The Warrior didn't grant him his victories, nor the Crone grant him his wit. He'd fought for both and won, not gifted by deities from the distant lands.

But he was afraid that if he prayed for her, they would not listen because of all his sins... but they would answer for Eliana. She was blessed by the warrior; she shielded the weak, honoured her dead, fought for what she believed right... and she didn't listen to her faith, she followed her heart, listened to it telling her what to do. She was every bit of the seven.

He paused in panic when he eyes caught sight of a timid figure cloaked in dark grey; she was not a servant, that much Jaime knew. However, when her auburn hair and mother's eyes flicked before him, he recognised her. "Lady Sansa," Jaime greeted, bowing his head respectively. He found that she was no longer the girl he'd encountered at Winterfell and had advanced since then. He frowned when she flinched as he called her by her given name.

Hastily, she sunk to her knees in a courtesy. "Ser Jaime."

"Are you on your way to the Godswood?" Jaime questioned, watching as she rose to straighten out her dress.

Sansa refused to meet his eyes as she nodded, almost trembling rather. "Yes, my Lord." Sansa confirmed.

"Good, you can accompany me then." Jaime told her, offering his arm for her to take though he sighed when he saw how fearful she looked. "I intend to pray for your sister, pray for her to live in her trial by combat later today."

She immediately perked at the mention of her sister, "Lia won't die, you don't know how strong she is." She asserted, with a tone that only made him smile warmly. Still a wolf, hidden in her disguise. "The Queen wouldn't allow me to see her... is she well?"

Jaime nodded, "Your sister fights at noon, will you be there?" Jaime cocked his head at her, her eyes met his eyes, wide and fearful once more.

"No, my Lord." Sansa replied, seeming somewhat irritated. "My mother had forbade me to do so and I think she is right, I have witnessed enough bloodshed in such a short space of time... enough to haunt me until the day I die."

Jaime, in that moment, utterly understood Tyrion's strong urge to shield her... he was so tempted to tell her of how many people were willing to help her... he wanted to tell her, truly but he struggled to find the courage. The mere thought of her sister lying disemboweled at the hand of Ser Osmund Kettleblack stopped him.

"Lia would want you to pray to the old gods, rather than the Seven..." Sansa informed him softly, "She never did like the Seven, that's why she was my father's favourite child - she was everything he was, his miracle... he never looked at me the way he looked at her."

Jaime considered her words before smiling once more. "You are very much like your sister, Lady Sansa... you are kind, but I still think it would be right for me to escort you to the Godswood." Jaime started but he paused when he noticed the fear reappeared upon her face before she could hide it. "Though, I believe solitude is the purpose of the Godswood, is it not?"

Silently, she dropped the knees once more before she started off once more, leaving Jaime where he stood. When she'd finally disappeared from sight, Jaime continued along his way to find the Godswood and the Heart Tree northerner's so often spoke of.

He turned, and saw the crimson blood saps, with the smooth trunk of white bone. He knelt before the tree, his hand grasping a few fallen five-pointed leaves before he allowed his eyes to fall upon the face that had been carved into the pristine trunk. Feeling a sudden urge to touch it, Jaime pressed his palm against the face, feeling the sap that had collected in the crevices cling to his skin.

Once he pulled away his palm, he stared at his red stained skin, turning back to the look at the tree as it soundlessly wept.  _Keep her alive, your daughter of winter needs to live, not for me... for her mother and sisters, and for the good of the realm. She needs to live._

In the Sept, Jaime had lit a candle before the Warrior, praying silently under his breath in mutters before he sought out the Maiden, where he knelt before her. The statue that represented her was lithe yet beautiful, with almond her eyes and perfect lips... Eliana was just as beautiful, if not more. His heart ached. Pushing his pain away, Jaime bowed his head, trying to think of some useful prayers, something that would ignite his faith.

He moved away and turned to the Father, a gaunt looking man of stone with a long stern face that didn't fail to rise unease within him. "Father, I know I'm not worth your time, that you probably don't care what becomes of the Kingslayer... but Eliana doesn't deserve this. She seeks justice for all the terror thrown upon her family... I ask you grant her that justice and allow her to live today... let her live."

* * *

Churlish as the day her husband had brought home that baby kraken, the clouds were kraken-cruel, coughing out great gouts and immense drops of sopping moisture teeming down in a besieged deluge, an unending cataract of water sluicing from the sky... incessantly the rain continued to fall, snapping and crackling like bracken pods in a fire.

Catelyn always believed rain to be the most calamitous arrow in nature's quiver. Though the sky still shone a delicate, pellucid-blue, the clouds were frail and growing toneless and dull. Dark and vengeful, steaming shrouds of clouds coiling and writhing as they gathered to serve as witness, unearthly caterwauling filling the air while the wind whipped into a frenzy; a shrieking omen of the carnage to follow as the clouds raced across the sky, vibrating with the charged energy they were so desperate to release.

Plum projectiles of liquid splattering upon the soft soil, enough to turn the topsoil into slushy goo. Catelyn shuddered at the thought of another winter, but she counted her blessings that the winter to come would be short. To her, the rain was the nectar of the gods and the serum of the sky, she understood the importance of nature's bounty. She smiled slightly, if beauty was the gods signature, then rain is their final flourish.

It looked as though every noble in King's Landing had managed to crowd into the arena by the time she arrived. They were all there, eager for blood, their slice of meat. Catelyn wondered how much attention was for the spectacle and how much simply just wanted to see how well her daughter fought, or how well she died.

Gathered around their half of the arena, Catelyn stared wide-eyed at the six foot giant marching out, encased in full armour. Osmund said nothing as he readied himself, but Catelyn didn't like the look of him and soon found herself gaping like she had done so the day before. "He's a very large man, Lia..."

Her gaze told her mother otherwise, and she acquiesced. "I have a rather good plan, that _should_ work... however, being large doesn't always guarantee triumph, have faith in your child, mother."

The imp snorted at her words, not looking as convinced as Catelyn. "I hope you're as good with a spear as you say you are." Tyrion noted dryly, watching Pod held onto a wooden shaft that stood around ten feet, tipped with a glistening head of iron, yet Tyrion swore he eyed a substance clinging to the blade. He dismissed it.

Eliana smirked, swinging her arms to test out the movement of the armour. "Don't fret, little lion man... I have a plan, just believe." Eliana had been worried that the plate Tyrion had made for her would have been too heavy, but thankfully it was light enough she was sure she could move around in. She knew she would need to be quick on her feet if she was to win; yes, Osmund was a big man but speed would be the man's downfall. "Where's Brienne?"

"She's guarding your sister." Tyrion answered, although the question wasn't meant for him. "I'd prefer to have her watched at all times, as would the both of you I assume, especially after all that has occurred."

Catelyn glanced at the Imp and sighed, "Lia, I have something you need to know -"

Eliana shook her head, turning to Podrick, who handed the spear to her quickly without even being asked. "You can tell me once I claim my victory, and our freedom."

 _Our_... Catelyn tried her best to not react to the words, knowing that as soon as her daughter prevail in the combat, she would be shipped off to Jaime Lannister and taken to Casterly Rock.

Tyrion raised the helm towards Eliana, the direwolf's eyes glinted in the sunlight, that burned his skin intolerably. He frowned when he saw the reluctance in her gaze, "I have gifted you with light armour because you like to move around, the least you could do is wear the helm."

"Blackmail isn't preferable with me, Tyrion... I'll be fine." She shrugged off the offer, worried that by her wearing the helm her sight would be compromised.

"It could get you killed... please wear the helm." Catelyn pleaded, knowing she would neglect the protection.

Eliana smiled at Tyrion and her mother, moving to pressed her lips to her cheek, "I have no intention of leaving this world today." She vowed, her eyes laughing at her mother. " _Never_."

She moved to carry on, but Catelyn's fingers latched upon her forearm to drag her back. "Wear the helm, there's no yes or no about it... you're going to wear it because I will not see you die before my eyes again.  _Never_." Catelyn never took her eyes off her own, taking the helm from Tyrion and raising it towards her head, waiting for her to resist.

Seeing the inner struggle in her mother's eyes, Eliana sighed and lowered her head for her to place the helm over it. The visor fell across her eyes, though she could still see through the jaw of the helm. Catelyn adjusted it so it settled evenly upon her head. "Show them how it feels to lose, little wolf."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

* * *

As she strode forwards, Eliana didn't spare a glance for the Lannisters or Joffrey, who sat elevated from the crowd, surrounded by a phalanx of knights; both donned in gold and Lannister red. All wore smirks, already having judged her fate.

When she won her freedom, she was going to take her mother and sister and leave for Dorne... she wasn't going to spend another second in Kings Landing. She would have Doran keep them safe while she went in search for Arya, not trusting anyone else with such a duty to protect the remains of her family.

She flipped the spear through the air, testing its balance to see if she could work with it if she was to avoid death. She slid her helm closed, though she saw no real point in wearing such a thing for a trial by combat, it would do little to protect her.

Jaime watched her as she spun the weapon through the air, his gaze must've unsettled her because she soon found his eyes and held his gaze somewhat bitterly, probably due to his actions yesterday. But as soon as she had regarded him, she was looking away and towards her opponent.

Old and supposedly crippled, Grand Maester Pycelle crept into the centre of the arena. "In the sight of gods and men, we gather to ascertain the guilt or innocence of this woman... Eliana Stark." He coughed, his eyes slits as he glanced over at her with a glare, though he hardly knew her. "May the Mother grant her mercy. May the Father give her such justice as she deserves. And may the Warrior guide the hand... of our champion- "

The horn sounded, cutting him off thankfully, which seemed to please the entirety of the crowd in the arena as cheers erupted from the stands.

Even when the announcer had cried that the trial had begun, and as he circled towards her, Eliana never took her eyes off his movements, he was measured - that was good, better than she'd expected.

Ser Osmund was a gaunt suit of metal, clanking and thumping towards her like some great monster from one of Old Nan's stories. The thought made her laugh, though that did nothing to settle the heap of arrogance before her as he raised his humongous clay mole and sliced the air with a roar, of which, she easily side-stepped out-of-the-way, seeing the strike as predictable and rather faltered.

Her own weapon flew from her hand to catch his elbow, whipping his breast to make him stumble back in force of her simple attack. "Careful, now." She mocked, enjoying it far too much so quickly.

Kettleblack reeled for a second attack, and Eliana rolled between the blows, the air blowing against her face as he swung the blade through the air, hoping to hit something. It took every bit of Eliana's concentration and timing to move the right way, if it meant she would avoid the hits.

It was working though - she was staying clear of Kettleblack's attacks, amused by his growing distaste from her dancing about. "Oh, come on - hit me, knight of the Kingsguard!" Eliana goaded the man as she weaved once more. It would be all well and good to evade him, but she couldn't do it indefinitely... she had to trip him in order to gain the ideal opening. Charging headlong into him while his sword slicing through the air would only get her killed... he needed to be disarmed.

"Stop dancing about," He growled, making to grab for her but Eliana twirled dexterously aside to land a strike upon his wrist, loosening the grip he had on his sword. Seeing an advantage, Eliana struck his wrist again, wrenching Osmund's blade from his clenched fist.

Osmund gave a howl of frustration, but he didn't turn and expose his side to reclaim his dropped weapon as Eliana wished he had. Instead he grabbed at her, enclosing his sword hand around her neck, her gorget saving her throat from being crushed, however, to her realisation, she felt the steel pressing tighter against her skin.

She was dangling in the air like a dead corpse, and she heard her mother's unmistakable sobs of what she thought was to come.

Soon enough, Osmund's other fist found itself into her stomach, delivering a volley of blows that took the air right out of her. Only boiled leather sat beneath her armour to protect her body, not expecting Osmund to land as many hits as he was.

Osmund let go of her throat, dropping her against the ground, her spear clattering behind her as she desperately struggled to gasp for air. She was off balance, attempting to steady herself, though she was too late as Osmund backhanded her with such a force that sent her soaring backwards, and sent her ears screaming.

Striking impertinently, Osmund's hits were similar to ones forced upon bastards and whores... if she was honest with herself, she half expected to be unconscious, yet, there she was climbing to her feet once more.

Despite how much she tried to keep her helm on, Eliana pulled it off and threw it at Podrick while haggard rasps escaped her lips, wiping her face as she felt blood trickling from somewhere on her face. She needed to see if she wanted to live. "Yield!" She heard Osmund snarl, though his voice was distorted to her ears. But it was clear that Osmund didn't want to kill her... which meant that Tywin had ordered him to weaken her. Or at least she hoped.

Seemingly as Osmund could have landed his fist into her defenceless skull, and ending her life but he didn't which proved her assumption. "If you think we're finished, you haven't been paying attention Ser!" Eliana called as he went to backhand her again, as if swatting away a pest. Though that time, Eliana manged to gracefully twist out of his grasp before stealing forward, raising her spear to his unguarded leg and plunging the blade downwards into the joint at his knee and twisting before yanking it back out.

Eliana knew how to act in combat and how to survive, she was disciplined in the art but now, the urge to gasp and pant was nothing she'd come across before... craving the need to breathe as she tried refill her lungs, her chest aching from where Osmund had landed his punches. She dared glance at Osmund, who was still foaming with ferocity, steadying herself upon her feet as he looked down upon him. Osmund stood unarmed but still armoured. No one would dare help her, no one would dare offer the traitor help... and she could only think of one choice.

 _Take him down, and you have a chance..._   _take him down_. Not thinking the action through, Eliana started running towards Osmund, ready to throw herself at him if that meant taking him down successfully. There was a high chance that he would simply swat her away with the back of his hand or she'd take him down. It was the chance she had to take.  _You heart tells you what to do, but your head knows what's best..._

Her head met his stomach in a brutal impact, sending her vision spinning into oblivion. The more time she wasted trying to regain her sight, the bigger the chance of Osmund rising sooner. Wasting no more time, Eliana sought out the weak spot between his pauldron and cuirass; she drove the blade of her spear deep into the flesh and twisted viciously upon its exit, spinning as she retreated hastily if she was to get away in time, tripping over her feet as she did. The bloodcurdling bellow the erupted from Osmund's helm made her laugh in amusement.

She'd fought dirty, like farm boys did to get the upper hand... but it'd got her the upper hand but it didn't stop the agony forced upon her head. She spat, blood flying from her mouth before she shook her head as if to make the pain avert from her head and drift somewhere else. She knew if Rodrik was alive, he'd been disgusted to see her fight in such a way, as would her father.

Clawing for his blade, Osmund was soon armed once more, charging towards her as blood trailed behind him but he seemed to hardly feel it. That would change soon enough and Eliana knew it. Osmund caught her leg as she turned, dragging her down forcefully enough for her head to bounce off the ground. She rolled over, her tongue running against her teeth to check for gaps, though there were none - only blood, gushing from her split lip.

A torment of discomfort reeked havoc upon her head, her eyes were flinging from one direction into another as she tried to still her gaze, though she found it impossible in that moment. If she'd continued to wear the helm, she was certain the steel would've been half buried in her head if she had.

"Yield!" Osmund's hand clasped Eliana's hair, pulling back her head so he could look at her.

"No."

He went to backhand her again out of murderous rage, but Eliana preempted his movement and rolled aside, reclaiming her spear and backing away... she would let him beat her to death before she would say a word; something that appeared to be coming true, despite as much as tried to avoid the situation.

Osmund began to lurch forwards for her in one fatal rush. Eliana let him come. Gathering speed with his enormous, extending brutal sword outstretched and ready to collide with her as he continued towards her, yet, Eliana didn't move despite her instincts and her mother, along with Tyrion shouting for her to move.

_Five..._

Closer -

_Four..._

And closer -

_Three..._

Charging, nearer -

_Two... one._

Charging, closer -

Eliana  _lunged_.

Cries erupted from the stands, hands flying to the faces of women and men howling in outrage.

Buried inside his chest, Eliana twisted the spear head as a gurgle of blood spilled down his chin while the scales ricocheted and rippled away at the potency of the attack. Smiling, she drove the spear deeper before yanking it free, her eyes shining mercilessly when blood drizzled free to run down the scales of his armour, taking the form of a river to pool at his feet.

Osmund was displaced, stumbling from side-to-side like a small child first learning to walk, soon enough the sound of plate colliding with aged stone booming, echoing, morphing into a silence as he writhed upon the ground, gulping like a fish craving air.

"Ready to die so soon, my friend?" It was lucid that Eliana had won, yet she couldn't be satisfied with such a victory. "What a despondency revelation... I expected you to put up much more of fight for a man of your astute."

"Fuck off."

Her eyes twinkled, trailing down to his wound. "My mother always told me to never make assumptions, however, I saw your weakness as soon as you knelt." She crouched beside him, tilting her head in an almost patronising way, as if she was pitying him. "Too conceited, too haughty, your gaze too shrouded because you,  _hedge knight_ , were too incognizant."

Eyeing the glittered steel at his waist, she saw a dirk itching to be including in such a first as the one she found herself in. If she walked away like this, there was the chance that Osmund would rise once again and she couldn't compromise her chances of freedom.

She drew the dirk as Osmund tried to fight her for it; he failed. She didn't move to act until she'd finished her retribution, she needed to spare  _them_ a look. She wanted them to watch as she took her victory, how she took away their power,  _little they had_ , away in that moment, wanted them to watch as they lost.

And lose they did.

Seeing no point in watching the man writhe and squirm as the pain infected him, Eliana positioned the blade under his chin, pressing it against the skin and smiling when he shivered at the sensation. "Thank you for your sacrifice... you've given me my freedom, a debt I can never repay." Eliana uttered, observing the hooked nose man as his eye's turned ghostly.

She didn't even bother to pull it free once it had slithered through his skull to pierce the top of his oval head, instead, she let go of his head and turned away.

The gods had smiled upon her, smiling at her grandfather's words.  _Do us justice, child..._ She sought out her mother amongst the pale-faced crowd and there she was, though she word no smile and Eliana knew she probably looked a right mess.

Beside her mother, Tyrion threw his hands into the air, grasping it as a sign of victory, clearly beaming with triumph at her victory,  _their victory._

Osmund's body slumped deadly as blood slowly emptied from both his chest and head, his eyes wide as he stared into nothing, unblinkingly. Her lungs felt like shapeless mush somewhere amongst her ribs but Tywin's words couldn't have brought her more contentment as she dropped against the stone.

"Lady Stark is the victor," Tywin's response was clipped, "Eliana Stark is not guilty."

Despite feeling triumphant at her victory, she couldn't dismiss the rising whispers and mocking sniggering as the arena started to spin - her wounds were making themselves known as she was thrown into darkness. Stupor had avowed her, and she gladly welcomed it.


	35. Aftermath

" _Eliana Stark is not guilty,_ " The Hand of the King declared, but Catelyn barely heard him, all she saw was her daughter falling through the air in slow motion, and not even the entirety of the Lannister guard could have kept her from her daughter.

She bolted through the crowds, seeming immune to their snide whispers and sniggering at her daughter, elbowing and kneeing men and women to eliminate them from her path, desperately as she tried to weave through.

Jaime caught Catelyn's eyes, spotting the dread and fret flickering across her face, as she nodded in the direction of her daughter.

Heeding her trepidation and haste, Jaime surged forward finding himself unable to retain his apprehensiveness, sprinting and knocking away the men with his armoured chest and pointed elbows, not caring if they hollered in pain at the unforeseen attack upon them from behind. He had not run in such a fashion for a  _long_ time.

Bringing up the rear, Tyrion and Pod struggled behind Catelyn as they also attempted their way through the crowd - though Pod was doing the pushing and shoving rather than Tyrion, given his height and weakness when concerning the matter of aggression.

Though when they all managed to part the crowd to see Eliana, all four stopped in stupefaction at the state she'd landed herself in; all bloodied and beaten, not looking at all herself. Her lip was rounded with a pulsating bruise; on her cheek sat ripped skin, torn by the sheer force of Osmund's backhanded business. Then there were her ribs, she sat there wheezing like a dying peasant, meaning her ribs were either cracked or broken.

She was disarray, complete mishmash and chaos, falling into shambles before their very eyes.

Sparing his brother a look, Jaime observed the curt nod and soon he found himself starting forward once more but this time to find himself at the side of his lady. He curled her arms beneath her back and legs, lifting her, cradling her against his chest... enjoying the feel of her against him once again, being reminded all too well of their night at Harrenhal, only that time she wasn't quite as naked.

"Can you carry her?"

Jaime looked around for the voice, surprised as a warm hand gripped his shoulder. He met the cyan eyes of Catelyn Tully once more but no hostile lurked beneath their depths, only worry for her daughter's life. He knew Cersei was watching him as was his father, but he cared not.

He nodded hastily.

"Come on, brother, we need to get her to Qyburn." Tyrion complained, clapping his hands together for him to hasten. " _Now._ "

However, before they could journey any further to take her away from there, horns sounded, followed by the unmistakable sound of marching. "Your Grace!" A small handful of Gold Cloaks shuffled towards where Joffrey stood, though their heavy woolen cloaks slowed them somewhat.

He rolled his eyes, clearly irritated by their sudden interruption considering his recent defeat at adding another head to his growing collection. "What do you want...  _a treat?_  It's over, we lost!" He sneered, his face turned violet with discomfort as he regarded his uncle carrying the Stark girl in his arms.

"It's the Dornish, Your Grace... they've sieged the Red Keep."

Despite being incapable of summoning such strength, his words were enough to rouse her from her drunken slumber to release herself of Jaime's arms and drop to the ground. If Oberyn was there in King's Landing, she needed to find him. Steadying her hands, Eliana's concentrated on her balance and breathed deeply before she started in the direction of the Red Keep, knowing that a pride of hungry lions were prowling right behind her.

* * *

Caterwauling reached her ears while she barely managed to hold herself upright as she stumbled down the deserted corridors, screams of agony ringing endlessly as she turned another corner to see the hideous, obsolete ungainly doors. However, there stood no guards to greet her and haul open the doors, she didn't know if she  _herself_  would manage such a task.

All she could do was try.

Her hands gripped the chilled iron ring, her fingers clenching around it and she sucked in another deep breath before yanking it towards her so she was able to peer inside the room that was lit by the dim glow of the lantern baskets swinging in the faint breeze.

His crimson silk cloak sat flowing across his legs, the colour of fire. He wore a hauberk armoured with overlapping discs of bright coppers, his greaves and bracers were light armoured as were the rest of his armour. Upon his head sat his helm, adorned with a copper sun and his steel round shield decorated with sigil of House Martell laid at his feet while he still clasped his eight foot tall spear with a steel spearhead spike.

He looked like a ruler.  _Like a King._

Lifting his arms to remove his helm, his dark eyes stilled upon her face as he allowed his lustrous black hair free with the few silver streaks that silvered through, soon feeling his eyes stinging as he continued to stare at her, he gaze lingering upon the scars lacing her face. In realisation, he began to shake with anger, clenching his fists as he rose from the throne

His timing couldn't be anymore perfect as Tywin entered the room, smirking exultantly as he watched the Viper trail down the steps, his eyes trained on the woman before him. "Prince Oberyn..." He called the Viper's attention to him, "Your arrival is most unexpected."

Then the cavalry arrived; Joffrey and Cersei marching through the doors with the small council traipsing behind them just as Jaime and Catelyn, Tyrion and Pod also entered to see Oberyn Martell staring down Tywin Lannister in the centre of the Great Hall.

"I came with haste as it appears you have taken someone from me." He noted, his voice sharp and his jaw clenched, reaching the last few steps.

Jaime froze in his place when his eyes landed upon the Viper stood before him, his heart pranged to see his lady staring at the Viper, her back to him and everyone else apart from the man with the barbed tongue. "What is he doing here?" He muttered, dismissing the look Catelyn gave him as he continued to watch apprehensively.

Gradually, Oberyn neared Eliana, his eyes once again falling upon her to witness Lannister guards encase around her, blocking her from his rightful access. His blood boiled at the sight of his beloved being taken from him and in the clutches of the Lannisters,  _just like Elia!_  "Do not deny me of her!" He hissed, his eyes narrowing and gliding to Tywin and then Joffrey.

Tywin thought for a moment; either he'd let Oberyn have what he wanted and prevent a revolt he sourly didn't need or neither want, or, he denied him of Eliana and start a war that would only end in pain and more losses than he would be able to count. Where was his win-win scenario? ... He didn't have one, because either way Tywin would be losing out to a Dornishman and his wrath. "Ever the Viper," He mused thoughtfully, pondering his options still, clasping his hands together and the guards danced away.

Joffrey made a noise, "No!" He declared, pushing past his grandfather, tired of watching his family lose once again -  _it isn't fair!_  "... I'll have all your heads on spikes!"

"Not today."

His eyes flew to Tywin, narrowing and flashing dangerously as he regarded his grandfather. Not knowing what else to do, Joffrey glanced over at his mother who looked gormless... they didn't care of the loss of Eliana to the Viper, but Joffrey wanted her head, just like he'd claimed her father's and brother's.

"Come away everybody... Lady Eliana is free, leave her to become re-acquainted with Prince Oberyn." Tywin ordered, turning to face the large crowd rallied behind him, intently watching and waiting for something to happen. As they started to disperse, Tywin looked back to Eliana. "I would break fast would you on the morrow, Lady Eliana... we have much to discuss, I expect to see you."

And with his final words, Tywin followed the crowd out of the Great Hall and began his journey to his tower where he would wait to play his wild card on the morrow and wreck the serenity that had been restored in those few moments that had passed.

Though four stilled remained, Catelyn would never leave her now that she was back and safe and as for Jaime, he couldn't bear to move... and so allowed his chest to ache all the more. Tyrion had found the entire ordeal rather amusing to the eye and soon found he needed to no longer stay, knowing that Eliana was in more than safe hands, tugging Pod along with him.

Catelyn stared, transfixed, as she studied Oberyn's movements - slow and anticipated, like he'd never thought he would see her again. Eliana didn't move, she was frozen to her spot, her eyes glued to Oberyn as he continued towards her, dropping his spear.

They stared at one another, not knowing what to say or how to say it... they had been parted for too long.

She looked so defeated and ready to give up all hope she had salvaged... but the couldn't let her let them win,  _not the Lannisters_. His hands went to touch her face but she flinched and he jolted backwards out of concern yet he didn't stop. "Shh..." He muttered, his hands falling upon her neck, watching her silently. "Oh, my beautiful she-wolf..." Oberyn whispered, tucking the loose strand of hair that had fallen across her face behind her ear before he pressed his forehead against hers. "My winter rose..."

Slowly but surely, he pressed his lips against hers, allowing his warmth to spread through her body, settling her somewhat. He smiled even more when her hand weaved through his long, silky hair and down his neck. He kissed her deeply, drawing her closer, wanting nothing more than to have every part of her against him, near him.

" _No..._ "

Looking to her right, Catelyn frowned when she saw the look upon Jaime's face, he was seething with fury. His fist was perfectly white as he clenched it tightly shut, almost shaking while he observed Oberyn and Eliana.  _Did he love her? Was this jealousy?_

Feeling conflicted between either comforting the man or relishing in the feeling of him knowing what he feels like to lose the one you love... instead, she merely placed her hand around his forearm and squeezed, making him look at her. "You love her." She told him, satisfied with her assessment when he didn't even bother to deny it.

Blinking, Jaime looked at her and bit his lip before turning back to look at them. It hurt, it ached... it was a non-existent pain that he had never been familiar with before, not even when he was with Cersei, this was something new all together. And he already loathed it. Not bothering to reply, Jaime shrugged off her hand and exited the Great Hall.

* * *

"Well, the good news is you escaped with minor injuries than you could have sustained," Qyburn started, wiping his hands clean as he regarded Eliana with his beady eyes. "However, that being said you have two or three cracked ribs from my diagnosis, thankfully you haven't sustained any injuries to your lungs - the best thing for you, seeing as that area is rather tender, is to rest for now."

Oberyn smiled, clutching Eliana's hand tightly, his eyes not trailing from her face. He couldn't believe she was right there before him, he couldn't believe she was real and that he'd finally found her again. Thanks to his brother, he'd imagined the worse. "She'll be fine, Maester Qyburn..." He assured.

"Oh, I'm no Maester." Qyburn chuckled, shaking his head.

That made his smokey eyes bolt in his direction, narrowing in perplexity. "Surely- "

Eliana interrupted Oberyn, her other hand falling upon his knee. "Qyburn was a Maester until the Citadel took his chain." She explained softly, watching the strange, little man, though she was thankful they had taken her to him rather than to Pycelle who would only do nothing and dither, allowing his hands to linger upon her skin longer than necessary.

Waving bandages in Oberyn's direction, Qyburn sighed. "Could you?"

Oberyn lifted her carefully as he wrapped bandages around her ribs, tying them taut and secure, saying nothing more... there was pity in his eyes, knowing the pain she'd put herself through all too well.

"Lady Eliana," Qyburn spoke, calling her to him. "This is liniment, to pacify the bruising to some extent." He explained, handing her a small pot of an oily substance, it had a trenchant, herbal smell to it.

"Thank you, Qyburn."

He nodded respectively before fleeing the room.

Almost as soon as he had departed, Catelyn erupted. "Oh, Lia." She fussed, her heart aching as she stared at the beaten face belonging to her daughter. How she wanted to yell at her for being so careless, so stupid to fight in the first place but also, how grateful she was that she was alive. "Why did you do it... you stupid girl."

"Mother." She rolled her, watching as her mother rinsed the soaked cloth before moving to press it against her facial wounds.

The word made Catelyn want to cry; the last word her son had spoken before Roose Bolton put an end to his life,  _his last word. Mother._  "Do not say you're fine, because quite clearly you're not." Her tone was sharp and firm, unwavering.

Eliana was not fine. Blood was drizzling from her head, from the front of her scalp, but Catelyn knew they almost always bled the worst, which was some reassurance and there was another cut across her cheek bone, slowly turning purple but it would most likely scar. Her face was so bruised, it pained her to glance at her daughter.

"This will never happen again," Catelyn warned with such a tender fierceness, next time Lia volunteered herself for anything, she would have to go through her own mother, but she doubted she'd be so stupid to consider something like that again.

"I like your lady mother already, Lia..." Oberyn chuckled, rising and allowing his eyes to meet Catelyn's as he walked around the room towards where she stood, waiting. "Though I do not believe we've met."

Catelyn's lips thinned until they were nothing. She still found herself cautious of the man gliding towards her with a wide smile, she was unfamiliar with the Dornish but she wondered if she could place her trust in Oberyn, if her daughter found trust within such a man, then could she? "No, I don't believe we have."

"I did not discourage nor did I deny the truth in Lia's words when she told me of you and how beautiful you were, but now, I truly know where she's inherits her beauty." Oberyn informed Catelyn, his eyes shining and smile widening.

Catelyn's eyebrows perked in intrigue, "Is this flattery?" She glanced over at her daughter who merely stared at their first meeting, looking rather amused by the situation Catelyn had found herself in after more than fifteen years of marriage, feeling somewhat peculiar with compliments. She looked back at Oberyn, to see him smiling at her. "... Thank you."

Oberyn collected her hand in his own, pressing his lips to the soft, chilled skin sat there before he properly introduced himself. "My lady, I am Oberyn Martell, son of Lewyn, and Prince of Dorne."

"So I've heard." Catelyn commented, her tone strained and false.

He raised his eyebrows and nodded, "And what has Lia told you of me?" He saw the look upon Catelyn's face and decided she knew of their intimacy which he failed to decide whether it was a good or bad. "You will love the Dornish heat." He noted, holding her hand tightly as he switched the subject skillfully enough to make her more comfortable. "It will do your skin well, I doubt there are many hot days in the North."

"We've had our share, don't you worry." Catelyn assured, laughing as his face contorted in distaste at the news of Northern summers.

"No sun is like the Dornish." Oberyn commented wryly, smiling at his words as if it were some victory though his smile soon disappeared into a grim line. "I am sorry for your husband's murder, my lady. Ned Stark was a good man... " He frowned in memory, looking to Eliana with a soft yet distant look. "I met him at the tourney in Harrenhal, he was an honourable man then and I'm fairly certain he hadn't changed until his death - he didn't deserve a death as the one he received and neither was he guilty... but your sons were too young to die."

The sensation was queer; all her boys were dead yet as much as she wanted to, Catelyn knew there was nothing she could do...  _Robb, Bran and Rickon... her boys, her little boys_. Her heart ached, if only she could give her live for their, if only. Her eyes shifted to her daughter's face, wondering if she had informed the Martells of such things that didn't concern them.

Oberyn caught her sharp look. "This is not Lia's fault - she sort comfort in writing to me." Oberyn stopped Catelyn, concerned that she would turn on her daughter for speaking of family matter's to others who were meant to know of such things. "I wished to know who had caused my lady so much pain in order to put a righteous end to such behaviour before another ploy emerged."

Eliana leaned forward, her jaw tensing at the change in subject, "And we need to kill the weed before it infests the garden, before it uproots the bulbs and beheads the flowers." She contended lightly, putting it more politely than she would've liked but she knew Catelyn wouldn't approve.

"No one else will die." Catelyn implored, not looking as though she understood what her daughter and Oberyn were getting at.

"Mother, how certain can we be?" Eliana complained, her eyes zeroing upon her mother, "Sansa and Arya's lives are still threatened, Arya more so... the longer we dither in the Lion's Den, the more danger we are putting them in. We need to act quickly but silently if we are to actually be safe."

He shrugged, "I have a minimal number of troops with me, not enough to do anything dire..." Oberyn stated, moving to pour himself out a goblet of wine and bringing the ridge to his lips. "Though, my two closest companions will gladly help us, it will take more than three."

" _Help?_ " Catelyn questioned, her gaze flickering from Eliana and Oberyn.  _What is this?_ "What exactly do we need help with?"

"Your vengeance."

* * *

His door was thrown open with such a ferocity that Tywin almost jolted in his seat, disturbing his wax seal as it laid upon a newly written missive. However, thankfully Tywin's hand was as steady as it had ever been, not broken for a second as he met the astonishing iridescent, flashing eyes.

Jaime said nothing as he stalked into the room, his armour wearing heavy upon his body as he entered the room at his father's request. Jaime knew he wasn't pleased about his attempted impulse of honour to aid a Stark, his face said it all but he couldn't care less, he was so conflicted...  _Oberyn Martell!_

Tywin was silent for a long while.

It was unsettling notion as he completed his writing and sealing another two missives before he finally decided to speak. "... You're a fool, never have I ever known such an embarrassment, and what makes it worse is that you're my son." Tywin said, pushing the missives aside to glance up at his son, eyeing him as he paced. "You're lucky you're my son, you should be lucky I haven't had your head mounted upon a spike."

Tywin's eyes followed Jaime as he moved back and forth, noting how agitated his appeared to be. "Did you even think your little outburst through? You've shown a weakness, you've made our House look weak -  _a laughing stock_. You'd be lucky if Joffrey didn't strip you of you cloak just like he did with Selmy, you'd be bloody lucky!  _You call yourself my son?_ " He growled, truly disappointed in Jaime's chivalry to Eliana rather than his loyalty to family.

Jaime, however, continued to pace.

"Nonetheless, you will still marry her."

The words shook Jaime both physically and mentally; he'd stopped in his pacing and instead stood staring into nothing as he processed his father's words carefully, careful to not make assumptions... slow rage formed within him while he closed his eyes as an attempt to contain it. "You cannot be serious... I cannot marry her now!" He exclaimed in utter outrage at his father's plan to continue with the marriage despite the sudden complication.

"I  _can_ , and I  _will_."

Jaime laughed, finding his father's words amusing but also out of irritation, knowing he wouldn't listen to his needs on the matter. "By risking an open rebellion with the Dornish? Are you deluded?" Jaime pressed, concerned that his father had finally lost all his sense to forge powerful alliances.

Clearing his throat as an annoyed gesture, Tywin closed his eyes and opened them to lay his gaze on Jaime once more. "If we lose Eliana Stark, we also lose the North... which means its land, its army and its people -  _it means we lose_." In the eyes of Tywin, losing was never an option - simply create barriers that stop the opposition, make them firm and constant.

"And you think Oberyn Martell will simply hand her over and all is forgiven?!" Jaime's hands flew into the air out of agitation that Tywin was refusing to listen to him, refusing to listen to his side. "He will kill all of us before that happens, how can you be so shrouded to even suggest such a thing - I  _won't_  marry her, not while she's with him - I - I can't."

" _Oh Jaime..._ " Tywin chastised sourly, his jaw clenching and un-clenching as an attempt to pacify his growing vexation. "Please do not tell me what I think I already know - you stupid man. Women are even more dangerous than we will ever be, they know how to manipulate us into getting what they desire most and here I am, sitting and thinking I  _actually_  taught you something that would come of use to you, but you've neglected to follow them.  _You and your bloody honour!_ "

"I'm in love with her." Jaime confessed, completely and utterly hopeless to prevent the words. He didn't care if it was wrong, he didn't care - he was in love with her, she'd wormed her way into his heart unknowingly and left him aching, he didn't even realise until it was too late... until she was in the arms of another man.  _Too late_.

But Tywin wouldn't have that. "My son will not love a Stark!"

"But you wish for your son to marry one!" Jaime challenged, his own voice rising higher as he neared the desk. "I'd thought you'd be glad to hear such a thing - to put the rumours of Cersei and I to bed for once and all." He concluded, his words guarded but sensible. "... But of course,  _nothing can make you happy_."

"Jaime- "

Jaime was exhausted of listening to his father go on and on, it was his turn to listen and understand how it felt to be treated so lowly. "Ever since mother died you've been a sinful old grouch! You are an indescribably demented reprobate and a revolting heart-sickening parasite, you inept fiend." He raged, roaring on and on, his anger finally bursting through. "You  _don't_  love me... or Cersei and absolutely  _not_  Tyrion, all you seem to give a second thought about is legacy." He yelled, almost screaming in the face of Tywin Lannister. "Legacy?  _Fuck legacy!_ "

Tywin's hands came down upon the wood, the sound of wood against skin clapping through the air, leaving Tywin's hand screaming in agony though he barely took notice as he regarded his son. "You're my son!" He roared, his eyes trained upon Jaime as he held his high as if in defiance. " _And you will marry her_."


	36. Pick a God and Pray

How she pictured herself bludgeoning him to death in that very room, how there would be blood on her hands again... perhaps he was testing her, waiting for her to react. Was that the reason for the sharp knife present beside her food? She wanted him to hurt just as much as she did. She knew that he'd lost nephews to the Karstark fury. There was only a minor loss to his family, but not enough, not anywhere close to loss within her own, and she wanted nothing more than to make him suffer just as she had. She wanted him to burn, to die in agony... to know what pain felt like as those you love were taken from you.

Instead she pushed such thoughts away and turned her attention to Tywin. It pained her to speak to him. She didn't even know why she was, except for the fact that perhaps remaining proper was the only thing that kept her sane. She merely stared at the food sat before her on the plate, raising her eyebrow at the boar sausage, her mind trailing to the true purpose behind Tywin's meeting with her. She could feel his eyes upon her, his gaze verdant and as hard as valyrian steel while he seemed to just look irritated by her presence. "Lord Hand..." She greeted tersely.

"Lady Eliana," Tywin acknowledged her coolly, bringing his wine to his lips as he drank deeply, dragging out the tension to unsettle her. "I suppose you're wondering why I wished to see you, are you not?"

Eliana nodded silently, her eyes trained upon him still. "Well, you piqued my interest that's for certain."

"There are things we need to discuss," Tywin didn't even bother beating around the bush, which Eliana preferred somewhat... she found she had no desire to dither with politeness. "A truce if you will."

" _A truce?_ "

"Yes, a truce, with you." Tywin agreed, his voice proud and unrelenting, showing he was a man used to getting his own way; but Eliana knew how to deal with men like that.

She'd never been timid before and she would not be timid then. Intimidation wouldn't work on her, she mused, she had nothing left to lose... what else could they take from her without creating another uprising? The only person they could hurt was her, and she didn't care about herself any longer. "Why would you want to do such a thing? Why would I? You killed my brother, kept my sister hostage and lost the other, beheaded my father... burned the lands and tortured the people of my grandfather... I have no peace to strike with you."

"What make's you think I want  _your_  peace, Lady Eliana?" Tywin questioned, "I want the peace of the North and of the Riverlands." The North had been her only home once upon a time, where she grew with her family. She didn't know what it was to her now, but she knew she had begun to lose parts of it with Bran's and Rickon's deaths until it faded completely with Robb's. And while the Riverlands had been her second home, she felt a foreigner there as well. "The North lost the war, and the Stark line can no longer be furthered as you know. The Riverlands are a disaster and the North has become a feral mess, as chaotic as beyond the Wall... " He stated, his voice somewhat pacific. "Roose Bolton is now the Warden of the North, but his hold over it is vociferous. I need it to be firm, before winter truly does come. Your banners have no leader, yet they're obstinate; refusing to pledge allegiance to the King."

"Then what does this have to do with me?" Eliana pressed forward with irritation. She had a suspicion about what he was going to propose, but she didn't want to assume. There was nothing she could do to help contain the North. Feral and untamable was its nature.

He was a cold man, she knew that, but she could be cold too. If she did not want to lose herself in her grief, she could lose herself in her anger just as easily. "Your family are all traitors; Starks, Tullys and Arryns alike, however that being said, their armies are of paramount if Joffrey is to remain King, he needs all the Kingdoms to rule." He paused in his eating, his eyes growing dark and unlighted. "Stannis may have been defeated because of his failed attempt of a siege, but he's gathering more men and more ships with each passing day... and to avoid another siege, I'm going to need the men that rallied with you and your brother, and your uncle."

Eliana said nothing, she had no words as Tywin carried on.

"You're both a Stark and a Tully by blood. You walked with the men; you fought with the men; you spent time in their camps; you broke bread with them. There is no woman in the North that commands as much admiration and respect as you."

"You would have the firm loyalty combined with devotion of three of the Seven Kingdoms, perhaps even more. You're a Stark born with Tully blood and the blood of the First Men, daughter of the North... or the Queen of the North as I recall many have resorted to calling you. You could rally thousands to fight on your behalf to avenge your family; the figurehead of thousands, and perhaps, then you'd win." Tywin contemplated, knowing it was somewhat dangerous discussing this subject with her. "Who would the North and Riverlands rally to, if not the Queen of the North... but I will not be so stupid to allow such a thing to occur, I will put it to a just end before it had even begun."

"And how do you plan to do that?" She challenged.

The mighty lion chuckled lightly, clasping his hands together as he suppressed a belch. "It appears your influence over my son had been quite profound." He explained, beginning to feast upon his food before it went cold and dry whereas, Eliana refused to touch her own. "At least it's you rather than Cersei... so it's some improvement to a certain extent." He commented, chewing on the boar. "It seems he's absolutely smitten with you."

If he continued like this, she would leaving the room as she knew she would grow far too irritated with his games to want to dwell with him any longer than necessary.

"Your mother and I have already discussed this at some length; I cannot win them over with gold, neither with words but you, if I had you, then they would listen." He concluded, throwing her a dark look. "Do you realise how much power you hold?"

Stupid wasn't something she liked people to assume she was; she knew what Tywin was getting at... he wanted to ruin the freedom she'd granted herself by throwing another obstacle in her way, but the question was  _what exactly?_ "Enough with the games, and the flattery Tywin. Tell me what you want." Eliana demanded.

"I  _want_  you to marry my son, Lady Eliana. If you marry Jaime, then perhaps the rest of the men that still struggle against me will finally realise that if the Queen in the North can bend the knee, so can they."

Letting her anger truly get the better of her then, Eliana clasped the knife and Tywin saw the movement, smirking as he watched. "Willingly or forced, you will marry him. You may not realise it now, but this will benefit the both of you. You've lost everything, and Jaime needs an heir... you will love his children. Peace will be the gift of your marriage." Tywin spoke as he caught her by the wrist, his grip taut and harmful.

Laughter erupted from Eliana at the request, did he think she'd be so foolish as to serve them for him upon a golden platter? She would do nothing to aid House Lannister, she would see them all die if it meant vengeance. "Do you think I will just accept something a ludicrous as this? The North remembers, Tywin." She ripped her hand free of his grasp.

"I think you will do your duty and whatever is necessary to ensure the safety of your remaining family," Tywin replied dryly.  _Oh_ , how she wished to thrust the knife deep in his face and twist before yanking it free, however, she barely managed to keep her fury at bay. "If you do this, then you uncle and great-uncle will be pardoned...  _if you marry Jaime_." He threatened, as if trying to intimidate her. "Will you choose to protect them or uphold your honour? What are your mother's House words again? Family, Duty, Honor? Family and Duty come first, always."

Tywin knew as well as Eliana that her mother and sister were all that she had left. Her aunt Lysa was hiding in the Vale, offering them no aid nor protection. Arya was presumed dead. She didn't think she was strong enough to cope with being the sole survivor of two  _once_  proud families.

"You will marry Jaime, and give him children as your duty."

Having heard enough, Eliana downed the last slithers of her wine before she set down her glass so it echoed against the polished wood. "Do you know how many people it takes to start a war?...  _Only one_." She beared her teeth in his direction, wanting him to know she would not be the property of the Lannisters. "Your days are numbered, Tywin."

And with that, she rose and strode towards the door, not sparing the man another look as she swiftly excused herself.

* * *

She paced and paced, thinking about how much she wanted to kill Tywin Lannister.  _How dare he?_  How dare he even consider such a proposal? Taking the goblet a maid had filled with wine, she launched it across the room in the direction of the door, picturing Tywin stood there, and then she watched as the wine drizzled down the door like blood. Her father's blood, her sibling's blood.

She was to marry Jaime? How could she... he knew what was to happen to her brother, and that, that was something she couldn't forgive.

Tywin had made it evident that she wasn't to be given a choice, but she wouldn't give up that easily. She was a fighter, her father always made sure of that, and she always would be. The marriage, even forced upon, wouldn't break her because she wouldn't marry Jaime... if anything, it added the fire burning within her.

She'd fought her way through the war, and no way would she lose then. As her father's firstborn, he taught her how to survive war and the tactics needed to endure it's repercussions. She knew her mother had been worried when she'd been born a girl instead of a boy, she was worried he would've been displeased with a girl... but it seemed Eliana and Ned formed a bond no one understood. Even though he was dead, she could still hear him, telling her what to do.

_Your heart is free, have the courage to follow it._

"You lied..." She muttered, as she gripped the stone of the balcony, her anger rushing through her body. "And now I'm destined to share an eternity of misery with those who took you from us."

 _But I will be as strong as the North, Father_ , Eliana thought.  _You taught me well enough_.  _I will wreak havoc upon their souls, if they think I will yield so easily... I will not marry Jaime Lannister, I'll play them at their own game_.

She knew what she was to do - what she  _had_  to do. It terrified her, to come to such a conclusion that could one of two ways. However, it was the only way that would get her out of the claws of the Lannisters. She would rather him any day, especially if it meant the safety of her family.

He once offered her solace, would he offer it once again?

* * *

" _Robert Baratheon has asked my father to betroth me to his brother,_ " She admitted, seething at the prospect.

" _Renly?_ " Oberyn wasn't surprised by the news. He had, after all, seen something of the sort coming. "S _omething like this was going to happen eventually,_ " he said gently.

" _Well I'd hoped it would never happen at all… and especially with Renly._   _Renly!_ "

He gave her a smile out of defeat. "W _hat do you plan on doing now that it has surfaced?_ "

" _Nothing, so come one... let's returning to sparring."_

" _Why, so I continue to keep hitting you? You're too distracted..._ " Oberyn had noticed straight away that something was up, but he'd dismissed it and chose to go ahead with the lesson and that had been a mistake. Making silly mistakes she wouldn't usually do, it was obvious she'd been unfocused from the beginning.

He couldn't blame her though; no one – least of all, Eliana – deserved to be married off to a man such as Renly Baratheon. Such as woman as Eliana was, needed freedom and being married to Renly would offer only misery. The marriage would kill her, and more painfully than any of his poisons. Ther mere thought made his stomach churn. " _Do you have a plan?_ "

Eliana threw her hands into the air out of despair. " _What is there for me to do? My father wishes for me to marry, and Robert is the King. He thinks it a good match - he wants me betrothed as soon as possible._ "

Vanquished and defeated, Oberyn didn't like the side to Lia he was witnessing, her face laced with despair and her shoulders hunched as if the entire world was weighing down upon her. He didn't like the sudden shift from her fierce, competent woman of valour to this being. " _Your father can't possibly think that you will just marry that fool,_ "

Eliana sent him a pungent smile. " _It really doesn't matter... Robert is the King and my father answers to the King. It would be bad for the family name if I declined and it would wound Robert and my father both_."

" _I can't imagine forcing one of my daughters into a marriage._ "

Her smile withdrew its bitterness to look more friendly and welcoming, " _My father loves me, but he thinks that I'll grow to like Renly, and that my complaints are just out of stubbornness._ "

" _You won't, though._ "

She laughed at his words, her smiling turning upwards mockingly. " _Oh, but he's come to love me from a far, Oberyn... I'm such a delicate Northern lady, because he's knows me so well."_ Oberyn's own smile grew as did her own, " _And, of course, once I am married off to Renly I will stop all this fighting nonsense to enroll myself in activities fit for women. The joy!"_

Oberyn scoffed at her words. " _Seven Hells Lia, how can you even consider such things?_ "

She sighed, shrugging as she thought. " _Well, my Septa did agree I was quite good at needlework, but poetry is not my forte. I'm absolutely contemptible at the art._ "

" _Perhaps I could read some to you... and teach you._ "

Her upcoming situation had finally sunk in for Oberyn... she would be marrying a man who wasn't attracted to women, he couldn't contemplate the idea of her marrying such a fool, whom didn't deserve her heart. She was tender, witty and facetious, compassionate yet fierce. " _Can't your father find you someone else? There must be other options surely?_ "

" _Let's see; Jaime Lannister and Thomos Bracken were popular choices, but no other options I'm afraid, as far as my father is concerned. Marrying Renly would make me the Lady of Storm's_ _End_ ," She sighed deeply, feeling as though she was already drowning.

Seeing the despair and defeat, Oberyn finally made a decision he knew he wouldn't regret. " _What if you married a prince?_ " He expected laughter, for her to not take his suggestion seriously, for her to joke about the offer but that wasn't the case.  _"I'm a Prince, that's better than a Lord."_

She looked as though she'd been slapped across the face, her eyes wide and mouth agape. Even as her eyes filled with tears, she didn't blink, her eyes glaring at him.  _Why is she upset?_ Was he that bad of an option, was he truly that awful for her? Surely he had to be a better choice than Renly Baratheon. Perhaps etiquette differed in the North, maybe he'd issued her with some unknown insult or-

" _I'm not one for cruel japes, Oberyn, and that was cruel_."

A jape? She thought he was joking with her? " _Eliana, I –_ "

" _I don't want to speak of this anymore, I'm in a vulgar mood as it is already... I thought you knew it was rude to mock your friends when they confide in you, seeking comfort but it seems I thought wrong. I shouldn't assume such things._ "

He caught her wrist and pulled her to him when she tried to leave.

" _Don't,_ " She made a poor attempt to free herself from his hold, but Oberyn held on tighter.

" _It wasn't a jape, Lia,_ " Something in his voice made her stop trying to pull away, and instead she glanced at him, her cyan eyes shining with tears. Then Oberyn did what he did best, the only thing he could think of in that moment, what he'd wanted to do since he first saw her sparring with Markas. He released her wrist, and placed his hand upon the nape of her neck before bringing her lips to his own. When she gasped, Oberyn deepened the kiss, savouring the feel of her lips against his own in that moment.

Kissing was Oberyn's area of expertise. It was the only way for him to convince her that he suggestion was true. Tentatively, she touched her tongue to his and slowly returned the kiss. Groaning against her mouth, his wrapped his other around securely around her waist, pulling her flush against him. He was pleased even though she was clearly inexperienced, he knew she would be a quick learner and he would gladly teach her... she would be quick to learn when he bedded her as well. It was the right decision in asking her to marry him.  _No doubt_.

Gradually he pulled away from her, smiling at her flushed cheeks and swollen lips, pleased with his work in making her flush. Her icy eyes opened and he struggled to suppress the urge to kiss her again. His hand trailed to her cheek, as he took in their differences concerning skin tones, thinking of the contrast if neither of them were clothed.

Eliana looked up at him, her eyes still riddled with perplexity as she slightly frowned. " _Why would you suggest such a thing when you've denied marriage for the majority of your life?_ "

Oberyn considered his reply, thinking of how to word such things. " _I am fond of your company, but I know that with time I will love you and I think you would come to love me too... we could have a happy life together, Lia."_  He paused, taking both her hands in his. _"How could I allow the woman I might one day love be married off to some other man? What sort of a man would that make me?_ "

Eliana looked at him, and smiled at his words. " _You know, I knew something was going on inside that head of yours, but I didn't think you'd go as far to admit it."_  She smiled softly at him, " _I'm flattered though, that you are willing to marry me just to get me into your bed._ "

He'd admit that much; yes, he did try to seduce her but after two weeks of trying, he'd given up and instead turned to training her.

Eliana laughed at his expression, " _I may be innocent, but that doesn't necessarily mean I'm an idiot. I know if a man is trying to get something from me... I was just simply trying to get as many lessons out of you as I could before you knew that I knew you wanted to bed me."_

She'd beat him at his own game, using his own ploy against him until she won. " _Seven hells, Lia! Marry me! I need you to marry me!"_

" _I'll ask my father. I'm sure he'll be happy for my own suggestion, especially if I tell him that I actually want to marry you._ "

Obberyn knew he was smiling like the fool he was. " _Is that a yes?_ "

Eliana smiled.

* * *

Not bothering to knock, Eliana strode into the room to see Oberyn conversing with two of his companions, Markas Allyrion and Irraro Sanerah. Both men she'd met before, while she was in Dorne. Markas and Oberyn had been friends for many years, and Irraro was from Braavos whom Oberyn had met when visiting the city.

The three of men looked up when she entered the room, tension lacing their faces as she went straight to the pitcher of wine. Knowing something was up, Oberyn nodded to the two men for them to leave.

Markas rose from his seat, bowing his head in her direction which only sent his hair flying across his face, his hands tucking it behind his ears so it was out-of-the-way. "My lady, it is a pleasure to see you again." He greeted, taking her hand as he walked by her.

She nodded, "And you as well, Markas."

"You flourish with beauty with each passing day." Irraro greeted, smiling warmly as he carried his own goblet of wine out with him.

Once they were gone, Eliana moved to the window where she stared out of the city, feeling as though the entire world was bearing down upon her. Eliana half expected Obara to be in the room, but she wasn't which made her heart sink slightly. She knew the girl had travelled to the capital with her father to rescue her. "Where's Obara?" Eliana pressed, drinking the wine in her goblet while her eyes slowly landed upon the Sept that sat across the city.

Oberyn smiled and ran a hand through his hair, "She is with your mother and sister, or at least I think she is. She's eager to see you." He answered, observing as she paced unknowingly. "What's wrong... you seem on edge?"

" _Do I?_ " Her voice was harsher than she expected it be. Oberyn shrunk slightly in his seat and she saw it, her face growing regretful. "I apologise, it seems Tywin Lannister knows how to get under my skin." She explained, closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath as if to settle her fury. The Baratheons were known for their fury, however, her own could question their words.

"What has the man done now?" Oberyn pressed, rising from his chair while she turned around to face him.

Eliana scoffed, " _What hasn't he done..._ " It seemed to her that Tywin was going out of his way to make her life a misery, she would never be free, neither would her mother or sister. Forever trapped in the Lion's Den.

He neared her, cautious of her mood, Oberyn took her hands in his and squeezed and hoped his gesture would persuade her to divulge what the Lion had done to his lady. "Lia?" His voice was soft, laced with concern as she clenched her jaw.

A wild card which Eliana wasn't prepared to abide by, she had her own wild card to put into play and she needed Oberyn to comply before she could continue any further with pursuing such a thing. "Ask me again." She tilted her head, watching as he become lost.

His brow deepened in confusion as he searched her eyes for some inkling of what her request was. "... Ask you what?"

"You know what."

Oberyn understood in that moment, though he couldn't be sure she was being honest with -  _did she really want this? And now? Was this the right time to ask such a thing of me? Was it right?_ "But you said- " He went to argue, wanting to be sure it was what she wanted, and not because Tywin had challenged her to the point where she wanted to act out of spite. He wanted it to be true.

He wanted her to want it.

Her hands trailed to the suns woven into his brocade, distracted by the needlework before meeting his gaze of uncertainty. "I know what I said, but I'm saying ask me again."

"But do you want this  _right_  now? Or is this out of spite, that you just want to get back at Lord Tywin... do you want this right now?" He couldn't but feel she just wanted this out of spite and not out of love but he gave in, the look upon her face getting the better of him as he finally gave in. "Marry me, Lia."

A smile broke out onto her face as she stared at him, her hands sitting upon his neck. She lent forward to press her lips against his cheek, lingering before she trailed her lips along his neck, earning a groan. "Thank you."

He hummed a reply, his arm snaking around her to pull her against him while he pulled her away from his neck to peck her lips. "And then, my winter rose, then we'll take them for everything they have."


	37. Two Can Play at That Game

Catelyn enjoyed the freedom she had, especially with Sansa and she'd come to find herself strangely fond of Oberyn's daughter, Obara. She didn't know what to make of the girl when she first met her; the girl had been lively and a bit of a handful but she soon warmed to her company, even Sansa liked her.

She decided to take the girls to the Sept that morning, thinking they'd appreciate the comfort of the gods, however Obara seemed sheepish at the idea. She was a prickly young woman who had a quick and violent temper, and didn't hesitate to voice her opinions.

"Do you keep the New?" Catelyn questioned as they entered the Sept, Sansa leading them down the stairs.

Obara shrugged, "I don't feel the need to pray to any gods... I came here to see Lia, and so far, all people have done is keep me away from her. She promised that we would spar when we'd next meet." She explained, clearly agitated by the wait.

"Lia is busy with... politics of a sort - courtesy of Lord Tywin, perhaps you should take it up with him." Sansa suggested as she threw her head back in their direction, a faint smile plastered across her face as she spotted the scowl Obara sent her. "What?"

"Well I would, believe me, but my father has warned me about the wrath of lions." Obara muttered, ignoring the smile that Catelyn gave her.

"And so he should." Catelyn commented, moving towards the Mother where she felt she shared the most connection as Sansa went in search for the Maid, Obara however, just shuffled around in the background.

"Is this where they keep the remains of the dragons?" Obara wondered aloud.

"Apparently." Even as Catelyn knelt before the Mother, though she felt no nurturing from the stature depicted before her. Four of her babies...  _her beautiful babies_  - they were gone, all except Sansa and Eliana... when her own mother had passed, she remembered lighting many candles before the Mother as she sent quiet prayers to her spirit but all that graced her was death.

When she'd finished, Catelyn turned and spotted Obara moving around absent-mindlessly, merely gazing upon the statues of the Seven. "They won't bite you, they're simply here to offer you comfort in dark times... pick one and pray, and if you pray hard enough, what you wish for most may come true."

"Only children do such things."

Catelyn nodded, "But I am not a child, I still need the comfort the Seven offer. I need guidance when I lose my way."

"Does Lia?"

Catelyn paused, not knowing the answer. "I don't know the answer; Lia prefers to keep her father's gods, the Old gods rather than mine..." She trailed off, her brows knitting together as she thought. "But I think since her father died, she's given up all the gods in return for silence? She doesn't pray anymore."

She turned to the Crone next, seeing no point in praying to the Maiden, Smith nor the Father - she would only be tortured of her own pain, remembering those she'd lost, but she knew she needed all the wisdom she could get; she needed the light to guide her through the darkness.

She turned to the Stranger after that, she found she felt like a Stranger in herself and in the city she found herself in. She hoped she would be guided, by the spirits of her loved ones or even herself. Despite being the darkest of the Seven, she felt herself drawn to him. She'd lost herself. She was left broken after Ned's death, defeated when she knew she couldn't get her girls back, and she was shattered with Bran and Rickon's deaths but Robb's death had pushed her over the edge and into the Stranger's welcoming arms.

Glancing around, she saw Sansa silently moving around the Sept, however she paused when she spotted Obara before the Warrior. Slowly, she joined the girl before him. "You wish for strength?" She asked, her hand falling upon her shoulder.

Obara frowned, "Do you?"

She'd prayed to the Warrior for Ned's safety on many occasions, both during the rebellion and in recent years. The Warrior had been her new replacement for the Mother when Robb had called his banners, when he was crowned King in the North. It was queer, the Warrior was for the men; the Maiden for the women, yet Eliana always prayed to him first when Catelyn forced her to.

It took Cat quite a while to figure that one out but when she did, she saw herself as a warrior of sorts too, and she knew she would need all the strength left withering within her soul. She lit two candles for the Warrior, one from herself and the other from Obara. "Yes, I pray for strength." Catelyn nodded.

"We all need it." A voice rang out from behind them.

Catelyn wheeled on her heel, only to see Jaime Lannister leaning against a column behind them. "Ser Jaime." She said, nodding at him as he glistened brightly in his white armour with his golden hand.

"Lady Catelyn," Jaime replied, his tone gentle as he stepped towards her, his eyes flying to Sansa who had already noticed his presence. "Lady Sansa... and who is this?" His emerald eyes fell upon Obara.

Catelyn hesitated in reply, forgetting that Jaime and Obara hadn't been acquainted with one another but surprisingly, Obara spoke for herself.

"Clearly the Warrior never answered your prayers, Ser, anger them did you?" Obara spat, her eyes narrowing on his golden hand.

"Well aren't you... blunt yet sharp, a Snake of sorts are you?" He raised an eyebrow in Obara's direction, smirking.

Obara frowned, "My father is Prince Oberyn of Dorne."

" _Ah_ , a feisty one." He pushed himself away from the column and walked closer towards them, his golden hand resting upon the hilt of his sword. "Where is the bride to be? Not feeling well is she... it must be this weather."

"She's with Oberyn." Catelyn answered as Sansa came to her side.

The amused look left Jaime's face, replaced by something strange – serious, maybe even regretful. "Oh, I merely assumed she would be accompanying you today on your visit here..."

"She doesn't need you worrying for her."

" _Actually_ , I think she does... she doesn't know what she's doing." Jaime sounded sincere, something Catelyn thought he'd be incapable of after all his years and after all his sins. "But we both failed you, didn't we?"

She narrowed her eyes, pushing the two girls behind her as she stepped towards him, looking at him shrewdly. "Failed me? In what way did you fail me, Ser?"

His lips twitched, unsure of how to approach the situation, either choosing to form a smirk or a frown or his time in captivity had rendered him emphatic for once in his life. "I swore that I would return your daughters to you, but when I came here, only one remained... and I've been too selfish to go in search for the other." He actually sounded ashamed, but he didn't look away from. He stared his flaws directly in the eyes if he was to deal with them as honestly as he could. "Do you know where I can find Lia?" He pressed, looking somewhat agitated.

"You know where she is, the whole bloody city know's where she is." Catelyn hissed, sick of his questioning, having heard enough of it for one day. Yet, Jaime still looked lost which meant he was the minority, because it seemed even all of Flea Bottom knew. " _Oh_ , haven't you heard?"

"Heard what?"

Catelyn's lips twitched upwards, "She's busy getting married, and  _you are not_  the husband-to-be."

* * *

Her hair had been pinned into place and plaited into a single braid that cascaded down her back to lurk at her waist. Her dress was subtle if she was to smuggle herself out of the Red Keep but it was an attractive silvery tone, conducted from a fabric that flowed around her, adorned with tiny silver direwolves woven around gold beaded suns. Her hand enclosed around her pendant, her fingers sweaty as she clutched the sigil of her mother's house that was strung upon the pendant chain as she took in a deep breath.

Soon, she would cease to be Eliana Stark, and instead she would be Eliana Martell, wife of Prince Oberyn Martell. She would always be Eliana, the daughter of the North, but that didn't mean she would willingly forget all she was.

Oberyn smiled, adjusting his tunic which shone a deep crimson, littered with golden suns while his cloak, golden and emblazoned with a large sun pierced by a spear, hung from his shoulders, billowing in the slight gust of wind that made him appear somewhat majestic. His dark hair had been braided back, his white whips weaved through the braids as his smokey eyes smoldered deeply. She was grateful his beard still graced his jaw and cheeks, thankfully, making him seem all the more alluring as he waited quietly.

"I feel as though I am an outsider intruding upon such a place where I do not belong." Oberyn admitted, worriedly, his face dark while he followed the darkened path that led to the weirwood tree that loomed before them. He was silent; his steps careful and his gaze still as he watched the tree, its own eyes staring back.

"I should hope not; you're about to marry a Northerner," She reminded softly, smiling as she watched him, wondering what he felt being in such a place. "You'll hardly be an outsider anymore."

She had at least not laughed; many Southerners had shared the same feeling when visiting the godswood, showing they were not of Northern blood... she remembered her father had once told her it was because they didn't have a godswood of their own, and so they weren't accustomed to the nurturing warmth they possessed when visited.

Her grandfather had told her something different; that it was because their ancestors were to blame, for abandoning the Old gods for the new faith - the Seven, which is why they felt such unease.

However, Oberyn said nothing, just staring at the faces before him. "I have a question; my father once told me that the faces were into carved the trunks of the tree by the Children of the Forest, is that so?" He wondered, frowning at the thought.

Eliana nodded, "Apparently so... they thought of it as a way of representing the gods, to bless those with sight if they found themselves blind in a place like this, to help them see." She explained, her voice soft. "You never fail to surprise me."

Oberyn's brow sprung in intrigue, "And what do you mean by that?"

"It's just that most Southerner's never desire to visit the godswood, it's queer." Eliana commented, "Why did you want it here of all places?"

"I suppose I saw it as comfort for you... knowing that your father and brothers are departed from us along with your grandfather, both Stark and Tully, and uncle..." He paused, glancing at the ground. "And because of that, I wanted you to feel at home rather in a foreign place such as this, also, I would like to think your father would bless our union."

At that moment, Oberyn sat himself down upon the roots and beneath the branches, pressing his hand against the faces. "I would being lying if I did not feel something that left me feeling uneasy, spirits possibly? I don't know, I'm just being skeptical I guess."

"For a man who claims he feels uneasy, you look quite comfortable to me." She observed as he watched her with those dark eyes of his.

He grinned then, a thought springing into mind. "When we return to Dorne, I will have a sapling here taken with us to Sunspear and planted where it shall thrive in the heat and live gloriously, growing as we grow old together."

Eliana snorted, "Either that or it will die." Oberyn fell silent at words, and so she continued. "A weirwood is not meant to be taken from its natural habitat, it will not thrive with all it can otherwise..."

"Much like yourself then?" Oberyn dared to question, his eyes glowing mysteriously. "It seems all these  _Southerners_  as you call us, seek to tame you..." Oberyn informed her wryly, a small smile stretching out onto his lips. "You're comparing yourself to a Heart Tree."

"A wolf doesn't live to be tamed, it lives to conquer."

At her words, Oberyn chuckled. "Of course." He agreed, rising slowly before moving to brush the dirt and moss from his legs. He stepped towards her, his eyes soft as he regarded his wife-to-be.

"Shall we begin?"

They both turned to see the Septon had arrived, waiting for them as he gliding towards the Heart Tree.

The older man smiled, "You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection, my Prince," The Septon commanded, forcing Eliana to shut her eyes as she heard Oberyn move as he removed his cloak, draping it over her shoulders swiftly before moving to join her at her side once more, taking her hand in his and pressing a light kiss to the back of her hand before lifting them as it was customary.

"You stand here in the sight of the Gods as they witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul... now and forever." The Septon took a strip of white cloth, symbolizing the purity and binding of their union to one another, wrapping it around their entwined hands. "In the sight of both gods, Old and News, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one, for eternity... look upon one another and say the words."

Eliana took in another deep breath as she and Oberyn turned to face one another, his expression passionate yet dark as his eye bored into her.

_Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger... I am hers... and she is mine... from this day until the end of my days._

_Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger... I am his... and he is mine... from this day until the end of my days._

* * *

A knock interrupted them.

Eliana pulled away from Oberyn, an irritated groan leaving her mouth as she looked towards the door. "Ignore it." Oberyn drew her back to him, her hands cupping his jaw, pressing her lips against his own, deepening it when she heard him moan.

His hand tightened suddenly, fingers tangling in the dark mane as he dipped his head towards her, capturing her lips in a searing kiss, his hands bringing her flush against him, trailing to the back of her thighs to lift her.

Seconds later, her legs had wrapped themselves around his waist as he supported her weight easily enough, moving them to the bed as she broke the kiss when he laid her down, kneeling above her. "I love you." He hummed just as she took him by surprise, flipping them so she was sat above him, knees on either side of his hips, his hands resting upon her waist with his fingers sprayed. His touch scolded her, even through the clothes she wore, and she smiled before leaning down and allowed her hair to fall around them.

Her lips brushed softly, almost teasingly, over his which sent a soft murmur through his chest. Her hands disappeared beneath his tunic, running along his chest as Oberyn gripped her waist severely. At the touch, she deepened the kiss.

Having had enough, Oberyn rolled them once more so he was hovering above her, allowing one of his hands to stroke the strands of her hair as he reached for the back of her dress as if to undo it. His movements were slow but he seemed to hasten when he trusted himself against her, pulsating and hard, through the fabric of his breeches.

Knocking rung through their ears once more, causing them to groan in annoyance and ignore the persistence once again, however, the door soon slammed open to clatter against the wall, sending a rally of vibrations through the room, enough to jolt them into awareness.

Oberyn sighed loudly, throwing his head in the direction of the door, prepared to shout at whoever had interrupted such a moment but he paled when he saw that it was Catelyn who had entered. Seeing the look within her eyes, Oberyn immediately straighten his appearance before offering Eliana his hand.

Despite finding them in a very compromising position of intimacy, Catelyn couldn't help but muse at the scene, finding it amusing that Oberyn had become skittish so easily, was she that terrifying? "Lia," Catelyn gestured to the man stood beside her, "You remember Thomos."

Standing tall and broad, with stocky arms and a muscular build as well as brown hair and eyes to match, Thomos wore a vermilion woolen tunic embroidered with the red stallion of his House. He was no longer the boy from her childhood, but instead, a grown man.

"Of course." She nodded, her voice guarded.

Thomos smiled at her, bowing his head. "It has been a long time, my lady."

"Princess..." Oberyn moved forward, pushing her behind him as he eyed up the younger male, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "It is Princess Eliana  _now_."

The large man stood behind the door moved forward, standing near seven feet tall at least? Heavily muscled and with the astute of a formidable warrior, Jarrad Umber had the looks of his uncle. "My Princess." He bowed his head as he stayed behind Catelyn.

"Listen to what they have to say, Lia." Catelyn advised, her eyes shining with -  _tears? Or with hope?_

"A Bracken and a Umber, what an odd combination..." Eliana concluded, moving around Oberyn as he appeared more than reluctant to move. "May I ask what brings you here?"

Moving forward, Thomos approached a table in the room to set the sack he carried upon, a ringing echoing off the wood as he placed it down. Pulling on the string attached, Thomos stuck his hand inside to withdraw its contents, revealing something that made Eliana's blood turn cold at the mere sight of it.

An open circlet of hammered bronze incised with what appeared to be the runes of the First Men, surmounted by nine black iron spikes wrought in the bearing of longswords.

"It is the crown of Winter of Robb Stark, my Princess."

Eliana nodded, her eyes trained upon the crown. "I know what it is... how did you come by it?" Her eyes shot to Thomos, her gaze harsh and full of hate in one swift flood of anger and pain at remembrance of how it was lost.

"The Red Fork, we were able to fish it out before we lost it ourselves." Thomos informed her, looking back at Jarrad who merely nodded. "Then, we road for a solid two weeks to present it to you."

Oberyn scoffed, "Why? Why not hand it to the Freys, they are your Overlord's now... or is it House Baelish of Harrenhal?" He questioned, not understanding the purpose of their arrival,  _a rather unwanted one at that_.

"My House's Overlord's will always be the Tullys, not matter what becomes of the realm." Thomos vowed, holding his head as he held Oberyn's stare. Giving the Dornishman one last look, her turned his attention to Eliana.

"Go on." She prompted, folding her arms across her chest as she waited for Thomos to continue.

The man dropped to the floor, kneeling, his brown hair disturbed as it feathered around his face to blind him momentarily. "You are the Queen, and we will only bend our knee to you. Not the Freys, nor the Lannisters or Boltons.  _Only you,_ you are _the Queen in the North._ "


	38. Trinkets

"... You are _the Queen in the North._ "

The words made Eliana freeze.  _Queen?_ She never pictured herself as a Queen, never... more as a liberator than anything but never a Queen. If only her father were there to tell her what to do. But all she had left were memories, she knew he would repeat the phrase he always told her;  _When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives_ , her father knew - he always knew everything before it happened.

The pack survives; her, her mother, Sansa and Arya. They'd survived yet.

A lady she could be, and she could be a Princess but she wasn't quite sure she could be a Queen... the thought had never crossed her mind, but two men before her already saw her as one...  _would others join them?_

She looked at Thomos and saw the sincere look upon his face, like he knew what she was thinking but she dismissed it as she rattled around her head for a reply... but she couldn't find one. Her mind was still trying to comprehend being named a Queen and that she found herself with a crown.

Her brother's crown,  _Robb's_.

_Am I a Queen?_

Thankfully, Oberyn saved her from drowning any further. "How many men do you have with you here in King's Landing?" He requested hotly, his eyes still suspicious of the men before them as she reached for the pitcher of wine to pour himself out a generous cup.

Thomos's brow deepened in thought, he knew not enough men had travelled with him from Stone Hedge but he couldn't exactly transport five hundred through the city without being seen. "Fifty, my Prince but more will come at the Princess's call." He vowed, his eyes flickering to Jarrad briefly, knowing the man would want his own input.

"I have ten of my father's guard, my Princess." Jarrad added, his hand trailing to the hilt of his sword, as if he was about to swear himself to her. "More will come if you order it."

Oberyn's smokey eyes found Eliana's as he shook his head, disappointment with the numbers. "That't not enough for us to take King's Landing."  _Barely over four hundred men, the City Watch was at least two thousand strong._  He hissed before he drained his cup, irritated by their numbers.

" _Who said we were taking it?_ " Eliana stared at him incredulously, her head tilted in question at his suggestion. Did Oberyn really think she wanted King's Landing for herself? He had sourly misheard. "I have no intention of taking King's Landing; I want to burn it to the ground, I want to demolish that ugly iron chair -  _not sit myself upon it_  - I want to show them how it feels to lose."

"But the Lannisters- " Jarrad went to argue, only to be interrupted by Eliana.

She closed her eyes, bracing herself in order to contain her fury. "The Lannisters aren't fit to rule... they live for power, the realm needs a ruler that will do it good for its best interest, not their own. Neither Lannister nor Baratheon can offer such ruling..."

"We gladly bend the knee, my Princess. You need not ask."

"You don't understand... I don't wish to sit upon a throne. I merely wish to conclude what my brother started; I will make the North independent once more, freeing it from the yolk of the South for once and for good." Eliana concluded, clasping her hands together. "We will never bend the knee again."

Catelyn frowned, thought the idea seemed appealing to her, she didn't understand her daughter's thinking...  _why wouldn't Lia want King's Landing?_

"The Tyrells can scrap for the throne with Stannis for all I care, like the pack of dogs they are..." Eliana trailed off, scratching her head as she glanced at them. "If we are to do this, I will need a table of Westeros, carved and highly detailed." She requested, appearing to be deep in thought. "Then, we can start with our vengeance."

Oberyn didn't look too pleased,  _Or Winterfell can be named the capital, where the Queen in the North shall sit and all must pay homage to her and her people. That's what the realm will think if such a thing happens..._

"Leave me..."

Nonetheless, the men smiled at her and bowed their heads to her. "The Queen in the North." The two men spoke in unison, the words leaving her uneasy. Thomos and Jarrad soon left the room, though Oberyn looked reluctant to depart, a simple nod from his wife confirmed he could leave. "Not you." Catelyn had also turned to leave when her daughter had spoken, calling her.

Tired and worn, her mother looked as though age had become her enemy; time had not been kind, despite that it had acted within the space of two years. She had never seen her look so... defeated. But through the defeat, Eliana could see the disagreement within her mother's cyan eyes and it did little to settle her unease about the situation they had landed themselves in.

"You look like you want to scream at me." She mused, reaching for the pitcher of wine to pour herself and her mother a cup, waiting for her mother to scold her for being so foolish. "You're welcome to do so."

But Catelyn didn't, she didn't shout and she didn't complain at her daughter's choice, instead she merely questioned the outcome; concerned with the repercussions and harm she could be posed with. "Is this wise?" Her words were laced with worry, and Catelyn had every right to be worried.

What they were planning could result in death, exile... all the worse possibilities were there. But they had to take the chance if they were to succeed, and that was a chance Eliana was more than willing to take. "The time has come and I will not stand aside any longer... this is what you wanted, Mother."

Catelyn scoffed at her words, "Yes, but this is suicide, Lia - you could get yourself killed, I don't want that - I never wanted that!" She argued, desperately pleading that she would see some sense and realise that this wasn't the way to go about it. "I won't have you follow your father and brothers, I won't have you die as well."

Eliana was never one who could deal with crying, the sudden outburst of tears was never her forte. In all her years, her mother may have cried... five times, maybe more? She never imagined her mother, Catelyn Tully Stark, would be reduced to tears but she did. She cried when her father brought home Jon, she cried when Sansa was born, when her father refused to get rid of Jon, she cried when her father had died, when Robb had and Bran and Rickon... when her own father had passed and she cried when Lia had died.

How did she have any tears left? So much crying would wear a person out, yet her mother still cried.

"Don't cry..." Lia whispered, helping her mother into the nearest chair, stroking her hair as she pressed her lips to her forehead while she moved to kneel before her. "We will kill them all, mother, just as you wanted... the Lannisters, the Freys, the Boltons and the Greyjoys - all will die, then the debt will be paid."

Through her tears, Catelyn nodded and tried to suppress her sobs. "I don't want to lo-ose you..." She mumbled through her tears, as Eliana wiped them away. She could barely to watch her be taken away again. She couldn't bear it!

"I'm only abiding by the promise, they killed our king... my brother and your son, your son. He was good and brave, and the Frey's murdered him with the help of Tywin Lannister. Do you remember the promise, mother?"

Her tears had ceased to exist, and Catelyn was only sniffling as she listened. "Yes, of course, I do."

Eliana smiled, taking her mother hands into her own, holding them tightly as the warmth entered her mother's body. "A thousand years before the Conquest; a promise was made, and oaths were sworn in the Wolf's Den before the old gods and the new. When other Houses were sort beset and friendless, hounded from their homes and in peril of their lives,  _we_ , the wolves took them in and nourished them and protected them against their enemies." She paused, watching as her words sunk in, watching her mother slowly realise. "All their lands and towns and cities are built upon what we gave them... they are nothing without us."

It had seemed so vague at first, but now it was evident to Catelyn that her daughter knew exactly what she was doing. "We take it away." She added, nodding her head in understanding. "We take it away just as easily as we gave it to them."

"And I know where to start; the North is too vast, the Boltons can't hold it for long." Eliana confirmed Catelyn's suspicions, and she cringed at the name spoken. "I promise, once we take what is ours by right, we  _will_  reclaim Winterfell and we  _will_  be together again."

* * *

Tywin had summoned her, as she liked to call it, finding it rather amusing that a simple marriage would turn him into a monster, not that he wasn't already one  _but that wasn't the point_ , she'd been expected him to request her presence soon enough and she couldn't help but relish in successfully get beneath that tough skin of his.

She almost wanted to laugh at the look he wore when she entered his private quarters, but her laughter wouldn't do her any favours. She'd goaded him, easily, her actions had made the man, the mighty lion resort the pacing around his chambers until he could devise a plan suitable enough to tame her. "It appears something has gotten under your skin, my lord." She observed lightly, watching as his head shot in her direction.

"You know very well what's under my skin."

Her smirk only grew at the harshness of his words, and Eliana knew she'd beaten him by marrying the man she was meant to marry. Such a simply triumph. "I always thought everyone enjoyed watching the underdog, Tywin." She commented sweetly, her tone more patronising than sweet, but she didn't care and instead she continued to relish in watching him squirm.

His verdant eyes clapped upon her own, "I don't."

"Well, it appears you must be the only exception - what a terrible shame." She sighed, her smirk only widening as his anger intensified.

He was seething, he looked like he wanted to kill her there and then but he managed to contain himself, she would never get enough of watching Tywin be bested by a woman. "No one like's being betrayed." Tywin spat, obviously not familiar with the feeling and clearly not enjoying such a feeling.

Eliana couldn't stop her laughter as it escaped through her lips, it would be something he would have to become acquainted with. "Well, I've had my fair share of those but I'm quite certain we never shared an alliance." She mused, her eyes shining. "I think you don't take very well to being beaten at your own game."

That remark alone brought a smile to Tywin's lips as his eyes stayed upon hers, not straying at all as they pierced her soul. "I like you, lady Eliana, but it's the things we love most that destroy us in the end."

She nodded, "That may be so, and it's Princess now, my lord..." Eliana corrected rather smugly, liking that she'd gotten the better of Tywin, enjoying it way too much. "But I would also prefer it if I made the rules, not you."

Tywin poured her out a glass of wine and handed her the glass, then moved to pour himself one. "My Princess, I think we can make this so much simpler... if we agree not to lie to each other and pretend everything is fine, what do you think?" He pressed, raising an eyebrow as he regarded her.

She nodded in agreement, knowing there was no point being false with one another. "I think that would save time."

He gestured for her to sit in the vacant seat nearest to her, while he remained standing, clutching his own cup tightly. "I have a problem." Tywin started, drumming his fingers upon his desk.

" _Oh dear._ "

Ignoring her comment, Tywin continued. "A problem that begun the moment my son told me he loved you, a problem that was born as soon as he informed me of your marriage to Prince Oberyn. If my son and heir had any brains at all he wouldn't have allowed himself to warm to your company..."

"I do not share his feelings, if that makes you feel any better."

"Not particularly." Tywin contemplated, wondering if she was telling it true. "But after that fiasco in the Great Hall, there was nothing left to but to let you play out your little scenario. And you were very good, pretending to be besotted with that Dornish imbecile. Impressive.  _Truly_. You convinced the people in the capital, even your own mother. Unfortunately not everyone fell for it; myself viewed your little trick with Oberyn Martell as an act of defiance.  _Not as an act of love..._  you see, if a girl from the North can defy the rules and walk away unharmed... what is to prevent them from doing the same? What is to prevent say... an uprising?" Tywin's gaze turned harsh. "And then in a fraction of time the whole realm collapses... this is what will happen."

Eliana said nothing, simply finding it extraordinary that a woman, herself, could cause such a stir within Tywin Lannister.

Tywin sunk into the chair opposite her, leaning into it comfortably. "My son believes you love him, he's even willing to leave the Kingsguard, which pleases me greatly... but he will not marry until he has you. And unless I've mistaken, you are married which is a problem."

Eliana was absolutely certain that it was a complement of some sort but she dismissed it and question the fragility of Westeros. "It must be a fragile realm if it can be brought down by me, just a woman." She commented, feeling rather assured that her actions would go in her favour if she were to act.

"Yes it is indeed but not in the way you imagined it."

Eliana placed her own wine down, her eyes narrowing at Tywin while she folded her arms across her chest. "How should I imagine?"

"You should imagine thousands upon thousands of your people dead." Tywin prompted, crossing his leg over the other as he tilted his head at her in question. "This house of yours reduced to ashes. Imagine it gone. Buried under dirt as if it never existed like house Reyne." He threatened, though he felt his fury rise gradually when she didn't even react to his words.

If his words were meant to infuriate her they weren't succeeding, if anything, they were boring her. "As I recall, most of my people died at the hands of Walder Frey and alike you, that bastard didn't even have to move from his seat... only three of us are left, not much of a house if you ask me."

But nonetheless, Tywin carried on, barely listening to her speak. "I trust you know what happened to them, to house Reyne?" She nodded, and he was grateful the tale had been passed on through generations. "You fought very hard in this war, Eliana. But that was on your terms, now we're on mine. Would you like to be in a real war? Fight against experienced men?"

Eliana shrugged, sighing as she thought about the question. "Not particularly but I'd give it a good go." Her father always told her to never give up, no matter how a person wanted to.  _Never_.

"Good." Tywin agreed, sitting forward suddenly. "Now, I've been in plenty of wars, and I don't wish to be in another."

"It would save you a lot of bother if you were to kill me."

Chuckling, Tywin shook his head at her antics. "I have no desire to kill you, Eliana... I merely want us to be familiar, perhaps even allies?" He suggested, rising to walk to another table which an object wrapped in silk laid waiting. "Hopefully, this will convince you."

"Oh, how quaint for you to buy me trinkets." Eliana mused once more, though she was slightly apprehensive at what the package held. Her eyes watched him as he strode over to her, placing the object before her and stepping away.

Tywin sighed when she shot him a look of uncertainty. "I believed you deserved something as compensation for your losses, and a game well played." He nodded for her to open it, and slowly but surely she did.

Never had she felt so tentative before, anything could be lying beneath the fabric before her. Her hand unwrapped the object as something began to clatter against the face of the table until it rolled free.

A sword,  _a sword?_  Why would Tywin Lannister present her with a sword, did he want her to kill him? Grasping the pommel, Eliana pulled the blade free from its confinement. It was a pristine platinum, glistening harmfully as it caught the sun's rays. What first drew her attention was the pommel that bore the sigil of her house, the direwolves eyes twinkling. She had to lean in closely to discover they'd been made from compact azure opals... the eyes of her mother.  _Tully and Stark_.

Her eyes flickered the blade, its skin chilled enough to send shivers rippling up her spine as she ran her fingers along the blade, sucking in a breath as it cut the skin along her tips. Along it's skin, the runes of the First Men had been incised delicately upon the steel.

She nodded in appreciation when she felt the stinging sensation hit her finger tips as her eyes finally realised what she was holding. Valyrian steel. "If you think you can buy me- " She begun, struggling to find words to explain what she wanted to say.

"I don't need to think, I know." There it was, the Lannister arrogance that sickened Eliana to her stomach,  _oh_ , how she despised arrogance, especially in men but powerful men needed arrogance to gain power. "It seems your father's sword was very generous, three swords forged from that slab of Valyrian steel."

Fury rocketed through her, how dare he touch a sword that had been in her family for generations; passed down from father to son for hundreds of years,  _how dare he!_  But shouting at Tywin would get her nowhere and so instead she took a firm hold of the sword. "What do I need to do?" Eliana dared to ask as she slid the sword back into its sheath.

Content that she finally understood he wasn't one for games, Tywin smiled. "When you and Oberyn are around… you need to smile. You need to be grateful, show the love you bear for that Dornishman and you need to be prepared to end it all for love... can you manage that?"

"Yes."

He rose an eyebrow in her direction, "Yes,  _what_?" He pressed, wanting her to comply.

Eliana stood and closed her eyes, dread filling her. "I'll convince him." Why was she accepting the sword? Why was she taking a gift from a man who had orchestrated her brother's murder?  _Because that sword you're holding, holds the reminiscences of your father's sword!_ It made her feel sick, she'd bought her silence with a sword.

" _No_ , you need to convince me." Tywin corrected, needing her to know that she had no other alternative. "For yourself, not for my son. You convince me... for the sake of your loved ones and if Jaime is wise enough to catch on, I'll marry him off to someone worthy."

Eliana nodded, turning her back on him as she started towards the doors, only stopping when his voice reached her ears once again.

" _Oh_ , and tell your husband's friend - the one from Braavos, if he steals anything else, I'll have him branded as a criminal." Tywin announced, though she knew a smirk was sprouting onto his face. "It seems he's as defiant as his owner, perhaps doing so would put him in his place."

She was triumphant for one split moment until the rocks came clattering down upon her shoulders to force another burden unwillingly upon her.

Not bothering to throw him another look, Eliana continued through door as her voice echoed back to where Tywin sat. "Tywin, winter is coming for you." Little did Tywin know, that was no idle threat she'd issued him with.

It was a promise.

* * *

He was on duty when she found him, _of course he was_ , avoiding her was probably his way of thinking she would never find him but Eliana had every intent in doing so after he'd outed her and Oberyn to his father.

When he saw her rounding the corner, Jaime had never felt so fearful; yes, he'd been faced with the wrath of a lion but he imagined the wrath of a wolf was much different. The fury was glowing in her eyes, flashing hazardously as she glared at him from a far. "Why?!" She demanded, her arm thrusting against his throat and forcing him against the wall.

Though he struggled to breathe, Jaime sent her a smile, allowing his arrogance to shine through. "Lia, not here." He whispered, leaning towards her.

Clenching her fists, Eliana's grip tightened around the sword in her hand. "Why did you tell him, Jaime, why?"  _Am I begging? Since when does a Stark beg a Lannister?_

He was envious, he didn't like that Oberyn Martell got to have his way with his lady, got to share her bed and got to have children with her. Jaime had very rarely been happy in his life, but at Harrenhal, he could pin-point his happiness - it had been with Eliana. "Because you were meant to be  _mine_ , not  _his_." He mumbled, feeling betrayed in the worst possible way.

"A vow is a  _vow_ , Jaime. Oberyn and my father had agreed to the match before your father put his into play." Eliana explained, her heart feeling heavy for some strange reason. Was she regretful? "I am not a piece of meat you can fight over, I am a woman who honours her word on behalf of her father."

Jaime scoffed, pressing himself against her as he moved to place his lips at her neck. "And he loves you?" He murmured, trailing his lips over the skin at her throat. "Says the man with four bastard daughters... what's to say when you've given him a son he doesn't go and find himself a mistress to warm his bed?"

Raucous, her hand connected with his cheek, the sound of skin upon skin rippling through the air as she slapped him.

Within a few moments, Jaime's skin had rippled into an irritated rash that stretched across his left cheek, causing his entire jaw to ache at the sensation of such a force upon his face. He was speechless, unable to find the words as he stared utterly bewildered.

"I trusted you, though I knew I shouldn't have allowed my thoughts to cloud my judgement, I trusted you."

Yet Jaime didn't care that she was that distressed with his behaviour. Yes, he'd snitched to his father that she and Oberyn had married in the godswood but Catelyn should have not informed him of such a thing, she knew what he was going to do as soon as he found out. "And I love you." Despite her slapping him, Jaime moved towards hers.

Agitated, Eliana stepped away from him. "No... you - that isn't fair." She argued, not happy with him deciding to through that upon her. "You can't just tell me you love me, and expect me to leave Oberyn. Oberyn understands, he get's what is going on and what is going to happen. He's safe."

His brow fell in confusion, "Do you not think I could keep you safe?"

She didn't have the chance to answer because they were being interrupted by Markas who had a look of dismay written across his face. "Princess Lia!" He hollered, skidding to a stop when he saw. He appeared to be positively shaken, his face full of consternation. "My Princess!"

Turning on her heel, Eliana looked in his direction and started towards him. "Markas, what's wrong?" She pressed, feeling her heart rise into her throat, never had he seen the man look as shaken as he did then. "What is it?"

Tucking his hair behind his ears, Markas sucked in a deep breath before he began to speak. "It's your lady mother." That was all Markas needed to tell her, and then she was gone and sprinting past him to her mother's chambers.

* * *

Bursting through the doors that Brienne failed to upon quick enough as she met her at the doors, forcing her way through the wooden barriers to only come to a swift halt when she saw Oberyn cradling her mother as the pair of them sat upon the floor.

Glancing around the room, she found Irraro and Jarrad standing with strained looks upon their faces. "What is it?" She looked to her right to see Thomos crouched on the ground, his hand pressed against his face.

"For the sake of the gods will someone tell me what is going on?!"

Catelyn quaked in Oberyn's arms as her daughter roared, her sobs becoming uncontrollable as she cried into his shoulder. Daring to glance upwards, Oberyn's eyes met his wife's and then his gaze flickered to where Thomos had crouched himself, wishing that what laid hidden would not be seen by his wife, wishing for Thomos to cover it before she saw.

Seeing the tension in the room, Eliana started towards Thomos, her feet leading rather than her mind. "Thomos?" Eliana pressed, her tone weary and unsettled as she approached the man with uncertainty.

The man met her eyes and immediately he started to shake his head. "No, my Princess..." He tried to pull her away but Eliana had already caught a glimpse of the sight of what laid before her childhood friend. "You can't see this."

It felt as though someone had plunged a hand into her chest and yanked upon her heart, ripping it free. She felt sick as bile rose within her throat, she was familiar with the feeling as she stared unable to look away. Haggard, it looked as those it'd rolled from the table to land on the floor... and before her mother's feet? Had this been sent to her mother?  _Who would_ \- she stopped herself, knowing the answer to her question.

Walder Frey.

Unable to hold them back, Eliana began to cry at the sight in front of her.

_Auburn curls and blue eyes..._

* * *

The room was faintly lit by glowing lanterns, across the room by the doors leading the balcony, Oberyn stood. His back was to her, despite not being able to see his face, she could see the tension withering away within his shoulders, by the way he held himself.

Frowning, she then saw the half empty pitcher of wine on the table, obviously he'd been drinking for a while. Drawing a soft breath she moved to pour herself a cup, making just enough sound to draw his attention, his head snapping around and his dark eyes settling upon her immediately. "Lia," He whispered, sounding surprised at her entrance.

Picking up a cup, she poured out enough wine to fill it. Neither spoke again for a short while, just standing there and then, after what had felt like hours, Oberyn spoke once more.

"I'm so sorry, Lia."

She sighed and drained the rest of her wine, setting the cup down on the table. The force the action made Oberyn jolt and frown in surprise, raising one dark eyebrow as he looked at her face, searching for something which he found because he was soon discarding his own cup and reached to tuck her hair behind her ear.

"Lia," He begun, not knowing what he was meant to say. "Eliana..."

She silenced him with a kiss, gentle and soft, as her hands came upon to cup his haw, praying that he understood what she wanted. Even as she pulled away slowly, breaking the kiss, she didn't remove her hands from his face as she stared at him. Cyan eyes meeting the smokey ones. She saw the uncertainty within them, she saw the doubt. She knew he was conflicted of such a thing, whether it was wise.

"Please," She all but whispered, finding it difficult to voice her wishes as she sighed. "Please, Oberyn just - please just... help me forget what I've seen."

Giving in, he sank his fingers into her auburn mane, capturing her lips in a scorching kiss, bringing her flush against him as he lifted her soundlessly. As he moved them, her legs secured themselves around his waist as they moved towards the bed, breaking the kiss as he laid her down to kneel above her.

"I love you." He vowed as her hands disappeared beneath his tunic, running along his chest as Oberyn pressed kisses along her collarbone.

They kissed and touched, something they had done quite often but only to be interrupted, his hands still lost in her hair, letting it fall as he reached for the hem of her tunic. His movements were slow but he seemed to hasten when he trusted himself against her, pulsating and hard, through the fabric of his breeches.

Her patience wearing thin, she aided him with ridding herself of her clothing, yanking her tunic over her head to toss it away once it had been freed from her body. She looked at him, watching his smoldering gaze that burned right through her as his hands went wandering soon enough, up from her waist, calloused fingers rubbing rings across her skin before he took her breasts into his hands.

She closed her eyes as he teased her, sending jolts of pleasure through her body while he mouth wandering across her body and finding the scar that crossed her skin, pressing boiling, open mouthed kisses upon the marks as he trailed back to take her nipples between his teeth. Enjoying the feeling, her hands found his hair, gripping the hairs as Oberyn continued.

It was when he flicked the peak with his tongue while pinching the other with his fingers that she gasped, her chest tightening as he sucked her neck and bucked up against her body. He slowly released her nipples and stared at her, his hands running over his body, his fingers sprayed into the undersides of her breasts, his breathing ragged and heavy.

"Lia," He breathed her name, burying his head in her neck and in one swift movement, her rid her of her own breeches before moving to unlace his own, freeing himself. "Eliana..." He murmured, his hands creeping upon her inner thighs while he slowly guided himself toward her, surprised to find nothing standing in their way like the past nights.

They were free.

He knew he should be gentle, but the feel of her was all too overwhelming for Oberyn in that moment.  _Make me forget..._ She wanted him to help her forget, and so unable to contain himself with a slow and assure pace, he slammed into her with one firm thrust, issuing a cry from his wife as he did so. Though, being a passionate man, he managed to regain some control - enough for her to catch her breath.

His hands found themselves at her hips, his nails digging into the skin at her hips while her own glued themselves to the nape of his neck. With every thrust, Eliana let out a small gasp, tickling his ear, telling him he was either being too rough or too soft however, Oberyn couldn't bring himself to slow now he was burying himself within her. Her moans of pleasure had him immobilized and mesmerized.

Breaking the skin, his fingers dug deeper into the flesh at her hips as she felt that sensation bubble within her lower abdomen, the same feeling she felt when Oberyn had taken her maidenhead; it meant she was close, and so did Oberyn as his pace only quickened, each and every thrust hitting her in just the right place.

"Oberyn..." She gasped, breathless, staring at him with those eyes of hers, feeling herself getting hotter as she pressed her lips to his throat. She didn't need to tell him, he didn't slow, his pace didn't falter for one moment as she gasped his name over and over until the feeling that had been growing within her finally snapped from the strain, sending a ripple through her body that made her utter his name.

He groaned loudly, thrusting roughly until his pace began to falter and as she trembled beneath him, until he finally felt himself tumble over the edge. Oberyn's identity could have been questioned as he howled in pleasure, filling her, and a part of him hoping she would be carrying his child soon enough. The mere thought of a little boy or little girl made him collapse onto his back, rolling off her.

When their heartbeats finally slowed to their normal, usual pace, Oberyn glanced at her and moved to pressed a kiss against her forehead before immediately gathering her in his arms, holding her close as her cheek met his chest while he ran his fingers absently through his hair. Listening to her breathing, he smiled when sleep finally claimed her. He watched her sleep, watching her eyelids as they fluttered and squinted as she dreamed. Knowing he was smiling like the fool he was, Oberyn held her even closer before he allowed his own eyes to close and for sleep to claim him also.


	39. Vines

She stood fully bare, her hair unwoven from its braids, damp from her bath, lurking at the top of her coccyx, not caring as the chilly air met her skin causing her breasts to harden from the breeze. Her mind was reeling despite, only having awoken from her slumber, she rubbed her arms as an attempt to generate heat but the chill wouldn't shift.

Sighing, Eliana slipped on a clean pair of breeches, tying them tightly as she went in search for a tunic to put on as well. Soon enough a cerulean tunic was in her hands and being unlaced, rolling her eyes when she realised it bore no sleeves. "Meh... it'll have to do." She sighed a pulled it over her back, moving to tie until she felt hands sliding around her waist to pull her against him tightly.

"How about we go for round two, Lia?" He mumbled into her neck, pressing his lips before biting at the skin below his lips. Turning her, Oberyn smiled as he lifted her onto the table behind them, toying with the lace of the tunic.

"I can't... I have to take... to  _him_  to the Silent Sisters."

Resting his forehead against hers, Oberyn wrapped his arms around her to pull her to his chest. "I can do it if you wish." He suggested, knowing that it would be extremely hard for her to do.

"No." She whispered, wrapping her arms around him securely. "I would prefer if you made sure my mother was..." She didn't have the chance to finish as he slotted his mouth over hers, deepening the kiss when she made a low sound and he smiled when one of her hands trailed into his hair, tugging at it lightly while the other stayed at his neck.

Oberyn touched her tongue with his slightly before breaking the kiss to renounced his grip on her hair to cup her face with his hair, his hands encircling her jaw, the back of her head, making a soft sound. Gradually, he began to rub his thumbs over her cheeks as he watched her, losing himself in her eyes as he stared. He laughed, grinning as he leaned down, brushing kiss after kiss to her lips.

Neither had heard the door open and someone walking in, it was when he coughed that Oberyn finally broke away from Eliana to look in the direction of the door to only find himself charging in a wave of fury. "You..." He hissed, ripping himself from Eliana to fly at Jaime.

His hand enclosed around his throat as he forced him against the door he'd just entered. Oberyn continued to hiss as Jaime clawed at his hand with his remaining hand, though he was failing. Jaime stopped fighting, his eyes falling on Eliana as she regarded him silently, watching him gasp for air... and for reason she found it riveting to witness.

Eliana didn't even move, let alone react to Oberyn suffocating Jaime. Though, it was disappointing to see Jaime not even fight for his life, which soon drove Eliana to stop Oberyn before he did actually kill him. "Oberyn, stop it." She called him to her, and slowly he pulled away which sent the man to his knees. She held her hand out to him, and soon he returned to her, taking it in his own.

Jaime looked at them, watching as they stared at each other. Watching as Oberyn demonstrated to him that Eliana was his, and that wasn't to touch by any means... that she wasn't his.

Oberyn lifted his head, slowly, trailing kiss along her jaw until he captured her mouth again. When he broke the kiss, he smiled and looked at her; she was staring at him, question rising within her eyes, and he couldn't help but press another soft, quick kiss to her lips. He lifted his head, breaking the kiss, and looked down at her. She was staring up at him, a hint of wariness in those sharp grey eyes, and he couldn't help but press another soft, quick kiss to her lips.

Jaime coughed again, feeling his heart rise into his throat when Oberyn through his head in his direction. "I need to speak with the - with the Princess." He told him, though he felt oddly out of place as the Viper stared him down.

Backing away Oberyn nodded, "I will be with your mother..." He muttered, grabbing a tunic as he glided towards the door, slamming it as he left.

Eliana sighed as she moved off the table, turning to face Jaime who stood frozen to his spot, unable to meet her eyes. "You said you needed to speak, so speak." She waved him on, finding she had no patience to waste time on him.

But no words came, which only irritated her further.

Filtering around the room, Eliana reached for the box that had been placed near the balcony and far away from her. "Did you know?" She pressed unexpectedly, making him jump, the silence obviously having got to him.

"Did I know what?" Jaime responded, moving towards her.

She removed the top, closing her eyes and looking away to face Jaime. "Look at it..." She gestured, watching as he cautiously moved to where she stood, waiting for him to join her.

Anything could have been in the box, but Jaime had never planned on seeing Robb Stark's head lying inside as its contents. It was the stench that almost made him gag, the wavering smell of rotten flesh that swam up his nostrils as he continued to stare, cyan eyes watching him. Soon enough, Jaime turned his back finding himself unable to stare at the boy's head.

However, Eliana set her eyes upon her brother once more and for the first time she contemplated how handsome he was, seeing why all the ladies loved him. He was beautiful, there was no denying that.

_The King in the North!_

_The King in the North!_

_His arms had been forced behind his back, positioned and nailed to the post that was at his back keeping it rigid and still as it held up his unbalanced body. Her brother sat butchered atop a horse, being led along by a band of soldiers._

_He had no head, he did, but it was not his own._

_There were no auburn curls and no blue eyes, instead where his head should have been, bloodied fur wisped in the breeze. The eyes flashing sadly in the fiery torchlight, glistening in the darkness of the night of terror. The mouth hung open and the tongue swung indolently as the horse was guided through the courtyard._

_Her brother's head had been struck off and substituted with that of his direwolf's._

She blinked, bringing herself from her memories to find her cheeks glazed with tears. She was crying...  _I don't cry?_  What was she becoming, some feeble woman, when did she ever cry? Coughing to clear her throat, Eliana placed the box top back on to cover him once again. "Your father sent this to my mother last night while he presented me with a Valyrian steel blade - it's conflicting because I don't think he wants to die but he's trying very hard to make his death occur."

 _No..._  Jaime shook his head at first, not believing his father would do such a thing but he soon found he was second guessing himself,  _yes... yes he would_. Jaime's heart truly went to lady Stark, knowing how broken she must have been to discover the contents of the box. "How is your mother?" He asked, sounded troubled.

"Are you fretting over my mother?" Her eyes turned harsh like the northern winds as she glared. "... She's better than she was, such a strong woman like my mother doesn't deserve to be hauled apart piece by piece... she's lost too much already." Eliana sighed, lacing up her tunic fluently, turning away from Jaime. "I'm going to be blunt with you; I will kill your father, sister and bastard son for all they have done to my family."

Jaime's breathed hitched in his throat at the news, but he didn't feel astonished neither fearful for their lives, if he was honest with himself he didn't particularly care as Eliana had every right to do so. He didn't argue with her, there was no point in that because Jaime knew if he were in her shoes he would want the exact same thing. Vengeance.

"My mother lost her first son, soon your sister will know the feeling." Eliana threatened, her tone dark yet Jaime found it somewhat seductive. "Then I will kill fucking Theon Greyjoy, maybe his father and sister too. After that, I shall turn my gaze North where I will take the lives of Roose Bolton and Walder Frey and then I will reclaim Winterfell."

Suddenly Jaime grew apprehensive when she eyed him, her eyes narrowing as she walked towards him. "The funny thing is, I can't help but think you knew the entire time what was the happen but didn't tell me." At her words, all the colour drained from his face. "Do you know Bolton said exactly the same words to my brother when he killed that you told him before you Harrenhal.  _The Lannister send their regards._  It looks suspicious on your behalf."

"No!" Jaime implored, shaking his head like a small child, as if begging her to believe him. "I had nothing to do with that, I swear to you -  _I will swear to you_ , swear myself to you - I didn't know what would happen, I had been his prisoner for almost two years!"

"Hm-mm." She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "The seed could have been planted long before you were taken prisoner... how stupid of me to forsake everything and sleep with you..."

Jaime grabbed her arms, forcing her to look at him, holding her in place. "I have dreamt of you every night, wanting you... every single night since I have returned to King's Landing, I have been alone.  _Alone_. I dreamt of you in the caves under Casterly Rock, sparring with my right hand against you." He murmured, leaning towards her, wanting to press her lips upon her own. "I dreamt of you at my knighting by the Sword of the Morning... I have dreamt of you... naked and as illustrious as you were in Harrenhal."

Despite his words, Eliana pulled herself away from him to look over the city, watching the thriving civilization beneath her. "You can leave."

Jaime's fist clenched frustration, wanting another chance. "You don't dismiss me, not like that." He growled, exhausted with her mind games.

"And you can't just throw something like that at me...  _you know how I feel_." She shot back, prepared to rant and rave if that was what she needed to do to make him leave.

"I love you."

She mentally winced, it wasn't fair. "- Stop saying that. It isn't fair for you to say that, not now, you can said it before but now,  _now_  it's too late." She turned to face him, feeling slightly resentful with the situation she found herself in. "You can't tell me that!" It was a plea more than a warning. She was worried that if it continued, she would soon drown and act out of despair.

It wasn't fair.

Jaime clenched his jaw. "I'm sorry that I've waited until now to tell you how I feel... I didn't know how to. You have to understand." He pleaded, wanting her to listen to him, to know how he felt. "Us travelling together changed everything for me.  _Everything_."

"You think it didn't change me? You think it was easy, simple?" Eliana hissed, stalking towards him, her voice harder than she ever knew it could be. "I went against everything I believed in for  _you_. All the justice I had, I  _dismissed_. All the rights and wrongs,  _dismissed_. I did that for  _you_." She spat, sickened with herself. "Everything was for you, and you walked away like it was nothing while I was shut in a cell."

Jaime felt his own anger rising within him,  _was this really love? Did it truly hurt this much?_  "I thought you believed in me. I thought you thought I was good enough for someone like you." He ranted, rubbing his remaining hand along his face. "I thought- I thought you saw me."

She bit the inside of her cheek before she replied. "I do see you."

"No, you don't. You've changed me, you molded me... you've fixed me. I didn't want you fixing everything for me." Jaime let out, his voice strangely weak and small to its usual tone. He felt broken. "That's what you've done, you fix... I told you of how your father judged me and you  _fixed_  me."

"I was trying to help."

Jaime lunged for her neck, his fingers wrapping around it tightly, in the exact same fashion as she had the day before. "You don't fix me! I am furious that you've fixed all my flaws, but I am even more furious that you knew what you were doing!" He squeezed, watching her skin shift into a scarlet shade.

"You're angry..." She nodded, pulling his hand away from her neck. "Then  _why_  are you here?"

"I'm here because I love you." Jaime stated, staring her in the eye, his gaze not flickering or straying from her face.

Eliana gritted her teeth in vexation. "And how does that change anything that has happened- ?"

"Do you love me?" Jaime interrupted, his smirk pulling at his lips. She didn't answer and he knew she did. Her silence was her confession. "Do you... love me?

"Does it matter?" Eliana sighed, feeling betrayal by her own emotions.

"It matters." Jaime confirmed, not going to let it slide so easily. "Do you love me? It's a yes or no question... Eliana?"

Never had she anticipated confessing love for someone to be so betraying and agonizingly painful, "I do... but I can't do this." Eliana moved around him and stood facing the desk in the room.

"Wait, wait, just wait. Just wait one moment." Jaime pleaded, watching as she stilled. "This past year and a half I have learned only one thing: that I cannot exist without you, that I cannot breathe without you; that the man I am without you is... pathetic, disgusting, worthless. I'm nothing." She could feel his chest against her back, his breathing at her neck. She tensed. "I'm nothing and you are everything, and I need you to give me another chance. With you, I'm Jaime Lannister but without you I go back to being the Kingslayer,  _Oathbreaker_. I demand another chance. We're worth another chance..."

"We were nothing the last time, Jaime. I was vulnerable and so were you, we both took advantage of that."

But Jaime refused to listen anymore. Without warning, he attacked her neck, he proceeded to suck gently on the exposed flesh. The kisses and sucking movements on her jugular and naval area made her eyes almost roll into the back of her head. His teeth nipped hungrily, his arms seized her waist and trapped her, the tips of his fingers digging into her skin through the soft silk that sat lain between them.

Frustrated, she pulled his lips to hers and kissed him fervently, wrapping her arms around his neck. His hand roamed all over her and she reveled in the feel of it, and soon Jaime started moving Eliana back until they hit a wall. She stood on her tip-toes, giving herself more height than her boots allowed her and then Jaime began to grind into her and consequently, fueling his need. She grabbed his bottom and pulled him further in, losing all control of herself.

After a few more moments of kissing, Jaime wrenched his lips away from hers. They stared at each other while their chests heaved in efforts to re-fill their lungs with oxygen that they had been deprived off for the past few minutes. Slowly, Jaime trailed his hands down her arms and held her hands tightly, staring at her intently.

"I tried to do what you told me, Lia." Jaime declared under the wolf's gaze. "Honestly, I tried to forget that night together. I tried so hard to push it away..." His words floated over her as she felt his hands brush and caress her arms. "But I can't... you hurt me." He whispered, his face falling between her shoulder and face, taking advantage by kissing, licking, sucking and biting at her neck once more. "I can't forget, Lia... don't make me. Please don't make me."

Their lips seemed to meld to each other as their mouths opened and their tongues dueled. However, as soon as it had begun, it ended. She pulled her mouth away from his and reached for his hands to stop him. She wanted to him to be looking at her when she spoke to him, and so her hands caught his head when he went to her neck. "Stop..."

He ignored her, going for her neck again but when she held his head firmly in place to make him listen. He knew something was wrong, he knew something had happened inside her head and he was terrified to find out what it was. "Don't say it." He murmured quietly, closing his eyes as an attempt to forget.

Eliana's fingers stroked the soft golden hairs that coated his head, her hand moving to cup his cheek where a faint stubble had started to grow. "I'm sorry. I can't. I just.. I can't." Her words were quiet and soft, it reminded Jaime of those of a lullaby. "I've married Oberyn, I will bear him children... but I can't..."

Jaime sucked in a breath, pulling away from her. "You love him more... of course. He's unpredictable and dangerous, everything you love about a man." He got the message and his gaze dropped to the floor, his brushed his hands across his face. "Why is it, when I love a woman she never loves me back?"

"Like you once told me, we can help who we love and you're right. We can't." She smiled sadly, pressed her lips to his cheek and walked by him. "You'll have to excuse me, I need to find the lady Olenna."

* * *

She'd been told Olenna was a wizened, cunning old woman with a wicked wit and sharp tongue, and her sister had not lied. Despite being an old woman, Olenna was positively wonderful from what Eliana had heard so even as she started into the gardens, she couldn't help but wonder if the older woman would comply with her wishes. She'd also heard Olenna had taken kindly to Brienne which was brilliant, Eliana had been worried the woman wouldn't be able to seek comfort in such a place as the one they found themselves in.

"A wolf running wild? How convenient." Her voice met her ears before Eliana set her eyes on Olenna, the woman was practically galloping to greet her.

"Lady Olenna." Eliana bowed her head in respect, smiling as the small woman with silvery hair. She admitted she'd been worried that Olenna would make some comment about her facial scars but thankfully, none came and instead Olenna surprised her.

Olenna linked her arm with Eliana unexpectedly. "Walk with me." She requested, leading the younger woman along. "I've heard from my granddaughter Margaery that you're quite the fighter, you killed that Kettleblack knight, yes?"

Eliana nodded. "I did what I had to if I was to protect my mother and sister." It was honestly the only thing she could've done, why would she allow herself to die when she could kill a man and live?

 _Such valour and determination, she is wonderful just like her sister._  "Oh, Sansa. She's such a little dove, filled with so much pain for such a young age." Olenna commented in thought, "She's a skittish dear in a forest, it's not safe for her here."

"I know, it's not safe anywhere anymore." She agreed, she did indeed fear the safety for her sister. "Olenna, I have a proposal for you on how we can rid the realm of Joffrey." Eliana began with a suggestive tone, certain it would intrigue the Queen of Thorns. "He's a common enemy, and I'm fairly certain you don't wish for Margaery to marry someone as one-dimensional as him." She paused, watching her brow deepen in concern. "He's hurt my family for far too long and if no one else will act, then I will."

"What do you have in mind, little wolf?"

"My father always told me that the best revenge is patient. Cultivated. Only no one sees it coming until it's too late." She paused, smiling to herself, pleased to know that Olenna was interested in what she was willing to offer. "If we are to go unnoticed, poison would be the way to go about it."

That roused a chuckle from Olenna, "You mean regicide, absolutely brilliant ... I've never done such a thing before in my life." She informed Eliana, looking offended however she immediately broke out into a smile. "But I would gladly accept if it concerns the well fare for my Margaery, I will not have her marry that monster."

That was all Eliana needed to hear, confirmation and the plan could -  _would_  go ahead. "We'll play them like Cyvasse, take the most important pieces to render them powerless; the dragon and the king; Tywin and Joffrey." Eliana explained, clearly having thought it through.

Olenna frowned, "I don't think I've ever played Cyvasse before" She said in thought, though soon she said nothing more on the matter, knowing the bushes had ears and eyes. "What is it like in the Lions keep?" She opted to change the subject, worried someone would hear.

"Well, Cersei doesn't seem to know what to do with herself... my mere presence irritates her so I hardly ever see the woman. Tywin's always lurking in corners as is Pycelle- "

The older woman had heard the news late that very morning, from Margaery as Joffrey couldn't seem to keep it quiet. "I heard what he did to your mother, how cruel, to serve her son's head to her." Olenna said, sounding genuinely sincere, her hand gripping Eliana's tightly.

Eliana strained a smiled, "He's with the Silent Sisters now, so hopefully he'll be able to rest." She spoke softly.

"When do you plan to carry this out?" Olenna pressed, pulling Eliana along reluctantly.

Eliana gritted her teeth, watching the bushes move swiftly as a small child scuttled away. "My brother was murdered at a wedding along with his wife and unborn child, I see it only right if he does too."

"You've done this before haven't you?" Olenna stared in wonder, definitely intrigued.

She laughed and shook her head, surprising the older woman as she began to speak. "No, but my husband has always intrigued me with the art of poisons, and there's a first for everything." Eliana shrugged.

"I'll assist you," Olenna murmured with a curt nod, her eyes searching the brush around them. "You'll have your vengeance." The Queen of Thorns paused abruptly, staring directly ahead of them as a wide smile spread out onto her face. " _Oh look_ , a spider is in the garden, little wolf."

_Varys._


	40. Hurricane

Running her hands along the wood, Eliana sighed deeply as her mind flew to Jaime.  _Do you... love me?_ He'd asked and she'd dismissed him so simply, not even bothering to explain herself as he begged everything of her.  _Everything_ and she gave him nothing. Since when had she become such a witch? Pushing him aside when Oberyn found his way back into her life, was that right?  _What was right anymore?_

Not once did she stop and consider how Jaime would have felt, having forsaken his sister,  _his lover_  for her and she'd pushed him aside to have Oberyn simply because he was what? Unpredictable and dangerous? Jaime was more trustworthy than Oberyn... would Oberyn become bored with her once she'd given him a child or two? What if she had another girl, his fifth girl, would he even care for her? Jaime had only been with one woman his entire life and Oberyn had four bastard daughters, Jaime had three of his own but from one woman. His sister!

 _Why do I feel so guilty? Was this my repentance? Have I rushed into things too quickly, perhaps a second thought would've been suitable..._  "Perhaps Tywin knew what he was doing all along, and I shouldn't have acted out of spite, shouldn't have played into his hand."  _He knew_.

Tywin knew Jaime loved her, and Jaime wouldn't marry until he had her and he would never have her now. Jaime was safe, and Oberyn wasn't; she'd endangered his life by marrying him when she should have complied and married Jaime like she was meant to.

She felt like it had been some cruel trick played upon her while she was none the wiser, oblivious to what was going on around her as she willingly married Oberyn because it was what she wanted, not what was right.

 _Do I love him?_  She trailed her hand along her neck, shuddering at the memory of Jaime's lips upon her skin, relishing in the way it had felt. "I need to speak to him, to explain myself." She muttered, nodding her head at her decision. "You fool!"

"I hope you do not mean me."

Her eyes flew up as the door opened, narrowing at the man who had entered and disturbing her inner conflict. The sun bounced off his glowing head to blind her momentarily, his violent shade of fuchsia encircling around him, dancing, as he strode forward to meet her where she stood in the room. "Varys." Eliana acknowledged politely, though she barely managed to disguise her surprise at his entrance.

He clasped his hands together and bowed, "My Princess, you did ask to see me... perhaps I've caught you at the wrong time?" He asserted, tilting his head in question as he calculated her stance and reaction to his appearance.

Eliana nodded, though she felt surprised by how quickly he had come to her when she'd requested, it appeared all were more than willing to serve her so easily - it was terrifying. "I did but not so soon. I'm aware you know of the Khalessi in the East, tell me of Daenerys Targaryen."

Varys shrugged his shoulders, "There's nothing to know."

Eliana's eyes zeroed in on him, disappointed that he wasn't willing to tell her what she wanted to hear but she knew enough. " _Oh_ , there is... her army is eight thousand strong - Unsullied, if I'm correct. They are strong warriors, excellent fighters... accompanied by two thousands Second Sons as well, yes?" She wondered, raising an eyebrow in his direction to see his face fully, clearly demonstrating he'd taken her for a fool. "Ten thousand strong, not to mention that she has two exceptionally seasoned warriors as her advisers; Barristan Selmy and Jorah Mormont."

The Maester of Whispers said nothing.

The young woman began to walk around the room, content that he was listening to her and hanging on every word, she would use it to her advantage if she were to gain leverage about other arousing conflicts. "You once told me that you wished for me to serve the Realm, Varys... but how can I do such a thing if you're intent on keeping things such as this from me?"

"She is in Meereen, so my little birds have told me, she seems to have settled there."

Another crack had formed, slowly piercing through the tough skin of the Master of Whispers that fortified precisely, one that was not meant to appear. "If Daenerys does cross the Narrow Sea, I have every intention to wager an alliance with the girl, if anyone can make the Realm a better place, it's her. I will rule from the North and she can have the rest. If this is to end in war, I will not side with the Lannisters."

That alone had Varys smiling. "If you recall, not long ago you could've been a Lannister." He commented wryly, amused by her pledge while she nodded in reply to his observation. "You sound as though you regret it." Varys spoke.

"Perhaps I do..." Eliana agreed with another nod of her head. "I need to get as far from this place, I can't trust anyone. The more people you trust, the more danger you're putting yourself in... Dorne,  _at this moment_ , is the only safe option." She explained, not meeting the Eunuch's eyes as she told him of her plans.

However, her plan to do such things seemed to intrigue the Eunuch only further, piquing his interest further. "Jaime will follow you if you are to leave King's Landing,  _you know that_." He implored, wanting to know the true nature for such a thing she proposed to do. "And your husband will not leave until he has found vengeance for his sister and her children."

Eliana fell silent for a moment, allowing his words to sink in and contemplate what she was actually doing and whether it was wise or just plain stupid. She needed to leave with her mother and sister but if she was going to do so, she wouldn't have the vengeance she craved for. She wouldn't get to watch all those who'd harmed her family suffer.

She couldn't leave, not yet at least.

"Have you told him?" Varys interrupted her thoughts, intriguing her yet again, leaving her guessing what he meant by his question.

Narrowing darkly, her eyes picked at his exterior, trying to see what he had meant. "Told him what?" She dared to ask, not ready for the answer but also knowing she wouldn't be able to avoid what Varys was to say, after all, he knew everything.

_Did he know this too? Did he know what I've been trying to deny to myself for so long?_

Varys lips quirked upwards. "That you love a Lannister." The words might as well have stabbed her straight through the heart.

* * *

Being drunk never solved anything, being drunk only seemed to complicate things that needn't be complicated but why had he thought it would relieve his burden? Was it because his brother had always found comfort in indulging himself in alcoholic beverages? Jaime didn't know, all he knew was that he was, indeed, drowning in his own grief.

Even Tyrion appeared to be astonished by his brother's sudden worship of Dornish wine. Two pitchers were empty and discarded, doing little to settle Jaime's anger as he paced frequently around his brother's chambers.

He was evidently conflicted by his new found revelation, unable to come to a suitable conclusion without realising the repercussions that would in turn be discovered if he was to choose one way than the other.

"Stop that!" Tyrion snapped, exhausted of watching Jaime relentless rush back and forth as if to put his worries to sleep. Pacing would do little to settle anything, especially if he wore a hole into his rug. "It will never go away, that feeling of guilt, regret or repentance. Finally, you feel what I've felt for most of my life, it's wonderful isn't it?"

For once though, Tyrion was glad that someone was sharing what he'd felt for over twenty years of his life. Guilt, heartache... the lot. He was grateful that someone else knew what it was like to be hated and to be played.

But Jaime ignored him, his pacing neither decreasing or increasing, instead he came to a halt and turned to face Tyrion abruptly, startling his brother. "I kissed her." He confessed with a dejected shrug, wanting to pull his hair from his scalp.

It took his brother a mere few seconds to process what he'd been told, and soon Tyrion's face was twisting in laughter. "You do realise that if Oberyn had walked in and saw you,  _a Lannister_ , committing adultery with his wife... you would most likely be without a head?"

His warning seemed to not bother Jaime as much as it should have done, he didn't seem flinch at the fact Oberyn would have his head if he knew of he'd done -  _damn you brother!_ Tyrion sighed, downing the last of his drink as he kept his eyes trained upon Jaime.  _A fool in love._

Jaime flashed Tyrion a small smile, determined that of all the people, Tyrion would help him achieve what he wanted. "I love her, she can deny her love for me all she wants but I know it's there.  _I've seen it_. I saw it in Harrenhal, no one has loved me like that. No one.  _Not even Cersei_. She doesn't love him any longer, she married him out of spite for father. I want - I need her Tyrion, I feel like I'm drowning."

Tyrion said nothing for a while, simply tilting his head from side-to-side as he regarded Jaime, trying to recall when his brother had become such a soft man... Jaime was no longer the Jaime Tyrion had grown up with at Casterly Rock. "I don't think I've ever witnessed such passion from you before brother, and for a  _Stark?_ " He finally said, musing at the sight. "I like it."

"No." Jaime shook his head, smiling. "You don't understand; she kissed me back when I kissed her and she didn't even bother to deny the love she held for me when I asked her." He stated, sure of himself. "She does love me brother, she's just too scared to admit it."

" _Scared?_  I do not believe Eliana Stark to be scared, that's a pile of horse shit." Tyrion snorted, almost choking upon his wine. "But if you're that desperate, you could always kill him."

Jaime shot him a look, "Who?" He spat in annoyance.

"Oberyn - or you could have him arrested for some crime, I'm certain if you were to consult father of the matter he would agree." Tyrion suggested with a soft hum, wondering why his brother would choose such a hard road to travel upon.

Jaime closed his eyes in frustration, "You are truly cruel brother, I will not have her brokenhearted in order to fulfill my own needs." He informed Tyrion harshly, showing he wasn't willing to do such a thing.

"What happened to you? Since you were taken prisoner, you've become... well you're not  _you_  and I don't know what to make of this new you." His brother admitted, eyeing him strangely. "The old you would have never passed up the chance to get what you wanted."

"Cersei said the exact same thing, perhaps you have a lot more in common that you realised." Jaime smirked when Tyrion scrunched up his face in distaste. "If I am to be with her, I want her to want me."

Tyrion nodded, still musing over his brother's new found personality. "And how exactly will you do that?" He proposed, watching Jaime with a furrowed brow, waiting to see what plan his brother had devised.

"I'll convince her... make her believe." Jaime vowed, a faint smile creeping onto his lips.

* * *

"Your sister is such a splendid fighter, lady Sansa." Thomos commented, bringing his wine to his lips as he observed the eldest Stark child fight against the eldest Sand Snake. "However, it seems she's well matched by the child."

"Lia is resilient, Ser, you have no idea..." Sansa was interrupted by Thomos, who was comforting lounging by her side in the sun.

He sat back in his chair, straightening his collar while he enjoyed the sun's pleasant warmth. "My lady, I was at the Battle of Oxcross, I witnessed her valour and prowess in battle beside me." He explained, reaching for a slice of pigeon pie. "She did your father and mother both proud on that day."

Sansa's lip trembled, "Lia always bested our brothers, R- Robb and Jon, our father loved her..." She tried, though her quaking lips and sob betrayed her to infiltrate her words.

"Your father loved each and every one of you, Sansa, do not think his love wavered." Thomos reassured her, rubbing her arm in comfort as Sansa's struggled to stay composed.

"That is kind, Ser, but Lia's perfect; she can be a lady and a warrior..." Sansa looked at Thomos, sighing deeply as she moved to grasp a lemon cake. "Seven Hells, she can be a queen if she wishes."

"Aye, she can... I am surprised you do not wield a weapon."

That brought a smile upon Sansa's face. "Lia tried to teach me but I was far too clumsy." She glanced down out of humiliation while a rose hue climbed up her neck, ashamed that she couldn't even master archery, even Arya was able.

Thomos chuckled at Sansa's words, stroking his beard. "I think it is wrong for you to envy your sister Sansa, you are both different, you have no reason to compare yourself to her. You're both divergent." The man cleaned the corner of his lips and then his hands. "The only person who decided your sister's destiny was herself; on her third name day your Uncle Brandon presented her with a wooden sword. After he died, she chose to uphold his gift and learn to fight."

The little dove didn't reply to Thomos's words, she'd never known her father's brother or his father... Lia was the only one who had met them, who told them stories of their valour in battle, the only one who cried over them, prayed over them. Sansa never knew Rickard and Brandon Stark, something she wished she did.

Playing with her hair, Sansa let her shoulders drop in defeat. "Since she's returned, she's barely talked to me and hasn't spent any time with me, and she more than willing to entertain Obara. They're not blood."

"Family doesn't end in blood, Sansa, surely the mother taught you that." Thomos replied, cranking to look at her, frowning. "You've had your mother all your life, Obara left her mother at a young age. She thinks of your sister as one for her." He gestured the pair sparring upon the green before them, clapping each time Obara landed a hit.

"Obara, you left you right vulnerable again!" Eliana hollered, watching the face of the child twist in fury at her words and out of irritation, Obara lunged towards her.

However, she was prepared for the attack, knowing her taunting would surely get to the girl the more she made it evident, easily parrying the strike from the little Snake's spear, using Obara's own strength against her to spin away while making notes of Obara's weaknesses.

Anticipating Obara's next move, Eliana sidestepped when she lunged once more, blocking the attack with her sword before her hand enclosed around the shaft of Obara's spear and yanking the weapon away as she went to toss it aside to bring the tip of sword to her throat.

Obara raised her hands in surrender, and Eliana collected her spear once she'd removed her sword, returning it to the girl. "You're getting better, it's only small mistakes now." The woman noted, ignoring the glare sent her way.

In need to refreshments, Eliana Obara started to the table that sat across the garden, "Still not as good as father." She huffed in defeat, her spear pressed against her should as she strolled next to her.

"Time and patience."

Obara rolled her eyes, exactly like Tyene or Sarella would've done in her position. "I've been practicing for most of my life and yet you can still pick and fuss about my attacks... how?" The girl's eyes searched her own in question, confused why she could still see mistakes. "Therefore, perhaps we should practice each day if I am to make progress."

"Perhaps so." Eliana laughed and nodded, gesturing for her to seat herself at the table and beside her sister who was finishing the last of her lemon cake. "How many is that... ten?"

Sansa's mouth fell agape at her sister's jest, not finding it all amusing as she picked on her in front of company. "It's only my third." Sansa corrected, clearly still wanting to put across a good impression to the Sand Snake.

"I may have eaten the other seven." Thomos jested, sending Eliana a smile as he rose to pull out a chair for Obara.

Eliana shook her head in amusement. "A joint effort then." She rephrased, sitting beside her sister who seemed to welcome her in delight. "How is Tyrion, sister? Are you enjoying his company?"

"Absolutely not." Sansa folded her hands across her chest like a petulant child. "His manners are vulgar and he's very crude."

"Really? I think he was rather charming and shrewd... he hasn't harmed you in any way, no?" Sansa shook her head. "Then why do you detest him when he has done nothing to you? Tyrion is quite remarkable, he's a Lannister who hates Lannisters... that's hard to come by." Eliana reached for a slice of pigeon pie after she spoke, watching a smile form on Sansa's lips.

Before Sansa had the chance to reply, Thomos sudden rose from his chair and bowed his head. "My lady, my Prince." He greeted as Catelyn and Oberyn approached while Eliana stood as well.

"Mother. Husband." Eliana said in politeness, however, frowning when she saw they were alone. She was surprised Jarrad had left Thomos's side, but Markas and irraro she was less than surprised. "Where are the others, Jarrad? Irraro and Markas?"

"At the brothels, it appears they're hungry." Oberyn joked, though he got no laughs, finding all the gazes were upon lady Catelyn who was gripping his arm tightly between her nimble fingers.

With tired bags beneath her eyes that resembled contusions, Catleyn looked ailing and sleep deprived which Eliana preferred to not see. The Red Wedding might as well have taken place once more, because as she looked at her mother she was taken back to that fateful day. "How are you?" Eliana ventured cautiously, anxious that her mother wouldn't be able to rectify what she'd seen.

Shrugging her shoulders delicately, Catelyn sat in the seat Eliana had pulled out for her. "Better..." Catelyn muttered almost inaudibly that Eliana had to lean towards her. "Oberyn you've been too kind, treating as... you know, when I truly didn't deserve such looking after."

"Nonsense, Catelyn." Oberyn challenged, pouring out some wine. "Such a tragedy didn't need to be resurfaced in such a way, I would rather see you were cared for myself than leave the maids to you."

Despite how she was feeling, Catelyn managed a smile before she looked to Eliana and reached for her head, leaning towards her. "You married the right man." She whispered but Eliana couldn't tell if she meant it or not.

Squeezing her mother's hand in return, she smiled but her eyes shifted to see another body travelling towards their table.

Jaime strode to the table, slightly apprehensive as he saw the company gathered around it, questioning himself on his decision. "My Prince, My Princess." He addressed Oberyn and Eliana, barely managing to ignore the Viper's gaze. "My lord and ladies, I am sorry to interrupt your luncheon together but I request the Princess for a moment... a matter of importance if you will."

Meeting Oberyn's eyes, Eliana frowned before she let go of her mother's hand to rise from her chair. Why was Jaime asking for her? He wasn't going to live it down, was he? Walking past Sansa, she stole the lemon cake in her hand and quickly dispatched it into her mouth.

Following Jaime, she couldn't help but wonder why he was leading her away from the gardens and back into the Red Keep but Jaime didn't stop, in fact, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her along until they reached the Round Room which was thankfully empty.

Forcing her through the door, Jaime turned hastily and slammed the door, locking it to keep away prying eyes. "I'm sorry I led you all this way, it's just that no one will interrupt us here." He explained, turning to see her watching the woolen tapestries that lined the whitewashed walls. "You've never been here before have you?"

"Where's your armour?" She wondered aloud, looking over his body to find him bear of his burden, ignoring his question. Without his glittering golden armour, he seemed to appear like a free spirit... he was able to run free from King's Landing but would he? "You seem happier in yourself."

Jaime sighed, but not out of stress instead he was relieved to be free for once in his life. For once in his life he could make the decisions, which was more than he could've dreamed of. "I've been relieved of my duties, Joffrey believes a cripple is no Lord Commander..." He informed her, content with his freedom. "Trant has the duty now, that ugly cunt."

She snorted. "That's accurate." Eliana agreed, remembering how Trant had inflicted much pain upon her sister, remembering how he betrayed her father - how all of them did, though she was soon frowning. "What do you want, Jaime?" She wondered, knowing it must have been of paramount importance if he'd led her all the way to the Round Room from the gardens.  _Preferably a blood good one at that!_

Clasping his hands together as sweat laced the creases, Jaime's gaze fluttered up and down until it finally settled upon her face as he came to a slow halt a few inches from her face. " _Well_  what I want, I cannot have. So I will have to settle for something else." Taking a deep breath, Jaime dropped so he could kneel before Eliana, wanting her to witness his declaration and admiration for his lady. "You know I love you, my wasted heart shall love you but we both know how you feel... and so I shall swear myself to you- "

Eliana found herself smiling down at him, more than grateful he was willing to do such a thing but he didn't need to. "No, Jaime, you do not have- " But he interrupted her, shaking his head violently like a small child.

"No, listen to me." Withdrawing his sword, Jaime laid it across his wrist and met her cyan gaze in the blizzard swarming around him. "You may not want to hear this but to be frank, I don't care... who would I aid if not you? Who would I save if not you? Who would I serve if not you?"

Eliana knew possible answers to his questions; Tywin, Tyrion and Cersei, however, she chose to keep quiet and nodded for him to continue.

Verdant found the blizzard, and soon Jaime was smiling like a fool. A fool in love. "I am yours.  _My sword is yours, my life is yours_." He paused as her face changed to form differently in realisation at what he was telling her, that he was ready to forsake everything for her. " _My heart is yours... I am yours_."

Eliana stared wide-eyed at him as the realisation continued to rush through her.

"Do you hear me?" Jaime laughed at her, dropping his sword to clasp her hands tightly within his own, tugging gently to bring her closer to him. " _I am yours_."

* * *

Oberyn sat motionless for a long time, a half empty glass of wine hung disorderly from his fingers, gaze fixed on the woman opposite him, Catelyn. Silently, he rose and started gliding towards where she sat, picking at her food.

He kept thinking about Eliana, about their marriage to one another, about easily war could tear them asunder. She had already lost her father and eldest brother and, he knew, that if she were to lose her mother and sister, he would never get her back. She was vigorous, stronger than most would believe for a woman, but beneath all that iron and bronze strength Oberyn knew there lurked a tenderness, a gentle heart. He knew she would not survive if her family were to be annihilated entirely.

He didn't want that to happen, he couldn't bear to see that happen, to watch her lose little what was left of her family until it broke her, becoming less and less of the woman she was until all that was left was armour. Filled with a spirit forged like Northern ice and filled with such hatred that left her bitter, perilous and more venomous than any serpent.

That thought, the knowing that if that came to pass would destroy Eliana's future, had him crushed the cup between his fingers until it was dented and diminished beyond repair... exactly what her life would be if it were to happen, if Catelyn and Sansa were to die.

However, another thought rocketed through his mind unexpectedly. Jaime Lannister. He was intrigued as to why the man had consulted his wife on a matter of importance... the second time in a week. He couldn't help but assume something was going on, something he didn't know which made him all the more suspicious and did little to settle his fears.  _Were they - no, she wouldn't do that._

 _Why would Eliana turned to a Lannister?_  He didn't know, but he didn't like it one bit. He didn't like how she immediately walked off with him, discarding everything because he needed her.  _What was it?_

Swiftly, Oberyn slid into the chair next to Catelyn and shifted it so it was practically upon her lap. "Does she love him?" The words didn't even make Catelyn jump which only fuelled Oberyn's suspicions.  _Did Catelyn know of something else? Did she know?_

Slowly but surely, Catelyn brought her face to look at him, seeing the hint of betrayal and question swimming across his entire face. "Who, Jaime?" She mentally sighed in defeat when he nodded in reply. "I believe,  _as far as I'm aware_ , their relationship is strictly platonic and nothing more."

" _You believe_... so it could be something more?" Oberyn added, curiosity getting the better of him.

Catelyn shrugged before coming to her daughter's rescue, "Perhaps, but I know when my daughter loves a man, Oberyn, and she does love you."


	41. Jon Snow

Rain pelted Winterfell fiercely, so cold it was half ice with ferocity that even the thickest stone rooms seemed to shake. The black night was only broken by the bright flashes of thunder that followed cracks and bangs so loud that she thought the Gods were going to war.

Sitting up in her bed, Eliana sighed as her looked to her window where the drapes billowed, sending a rough draft rippling through the room causing her to rub her arms to stop the chill that made her skin rupture into goose flesh. Climbing out of bed, Eliana tried to pull her window so it would lock into the stone wall but the wind was too powerful and the window gave away once more, only successful in making Eliana more irritated from the lack of sleep.

A frail knock made her eyes shoot to her door, " _Lia... are you asleep?_ " It was her younger brother, Robb; he poked his head into the room and was met by the gush of wind as it slapped him straight in the face. " _Why is so cold? Did you break your window?_ " He wondered, stepping into her room as he hugged his furs around him, shifting towards his sister.

" _No, the window won't close because of the wind._ " Eliana told him, reaching to cloak herself in her own furs, wanting to protect herself from the attack of the wind. " _You can't sleep as well then?_ "

Robb looked uncertain; he didn't want to admit to his big sister that he was terrified of a storm. " _Are you going to mother and father's room?_ "

Eliana smiled and sighed, " _I'll be right behind._ " She promised, ushering him out of the room so she could close the door. " _I don't think anyone will sleep tonight, not until the storm passes anyway... where's Jon?_ " She pressed, noticing their brother wasn't present when he and Robb were usually inseparable.

" _He won't leave our room; he's too scared because of mother._ " He explained though he reached her more as a mutter but she still heard him while he shuffled along.

Sighing once more, Eliana started in the direction of Robb's room, leaving her brother to continue alone. " _Where are you going?_ "

" _To get Jon._ "

And with that, she continued down the looming halls despite how much her body quaked at the sudden drop in temperature, she refused to leave him alone in such a storm... Robb should've forced him to go with him.

Shivering, Eliana rounded a dark corner, anxiousness filling her chest when she saw all the torches were longer dancing their way through the night. When she came to Robb's room, the door was clattering back and forth as the brutal force of the wind met it within the dark night.

Glancing around the room, she frowned when her eyes landed upon where Jon should have been, in his bed. Instead, the wood frame was empty, the furs thrown back in a heap as if there had been a rush. Looking to her right, Eliana saw... well nothing - there was nothing to see! The room was a black void, only illuminating when lightning pierced through the window.

Out of the corner of her eye, Eliana paused to see a small ball in pressed against the corner of the room. Lightning illuminating the room once more, she saw him, a ball of black mess. " _Jon?_ " She called, watching as his eyes appeared through the night, glinting as they reflected the lightning.

" _Lia?_ " His voice was trembling.

Wincing, Eliana moved towards the small boy crouched in the corner, pressed as far into the wall as possible almost as if he was hoping to disappear with the void which Eliana found herself disliking as she witnessed it. " _Why are you in here alone?_ " Kneeling before him, Eliana pulled over her furs and draped them over his shoulders, rubbing his arms to create warmth.

His eyes shot to the floor, " _Because I couldn't go with Robb._ "

Despite knowing the answer, Eliana still persevered and questioned the small boy who still sat trembling before her. " _And why not?_ " It came out as a whisper, greeting him softly through the night like a lullaby.

" _Because Lady Stark would be angry if I entered her bedchamber..._ " Jon explained, showing how vulnerable his truly was, his rigid outer-shell was non-existent as he spoke. " _She hates me._ "

Eliana closed her eyes, taking his hands in her own, shuddering at the chill glazed upon his small fingers. " _Hate is a strong word, Jon._ " She told him steadily, knowing it was bad to make haste assumptions.

" _But she does._ "

Tucking a strand of curly jet behind his ear, she smiled sadly and stroked his cheek as he observed her. " _Has she ever told you that?_ "

" _... No._ " He muttered under his breath.

Eliana nodded, pulling him to his feet as she stood cautiously. " _Jon, you're scared and I'm not going to leave you alone here in the dark, I don't care what my mother may say about this._ " She nurtured, shifting to only hold one hand. " _Always and forever, brother._ "

" _Jon? ... Lia?_ " Their father's clement voice met them through the tempest uproar, calling to them through the void, guiding them through the darkness. " _What are you both doing in here all alone?_ "

" _Father?_ " The pair called out in unison.

" _What are you both doing in here all alone?_ " He repeated, moving the candle so its light landed on them. He could see Jon, six years, cowering against the stone wall in the corner despite on his feet, his pale face glistening with tears while his daughter tried to console him. " _You should have come to me when Robb did._ "

" _I-I thought Lady Stark would be angry if I went to your bedchamber, father._ " Ned couldn't help but sigh at the truth in his statement; the boy was smart. Catelyn had reminded him on several occasions that Jon was not welcome as his other children were. But no matter what his wife said, no father could leave his son crying alone in the darkness and he hoped to all the gods that Catelyn wouldn't mind.

" _No son, not tonight. Come on._ " Eddard led the both of them out of the bedchamber and made their way to his own. When they reached the chamber, Ned took a deep breath and pushed open the door. Catelyn was in bed with Robb and Sansa, Arya's cot was propped against the side of the bed as well; she was reading them a story from an old southern book. She looked up and although her mouth twitched slightly, she smiled.

" _Jon, come and hear the story. It's the perfect thing to help us forget all about the storm_." Jon smiled eagerly, letting go of Eliana's hand and rushed over to the bed, and settled next to Sansa on the bed.

Ned looked to his daughter who hadn't moved to the bed to listen to the story. " _You don't want to hear the story, sweetling?_ " He frowned, lowering himself to her height.

" _The story mother is reading is not about Azor Ahai nor the Last Hero, they're my favourite._ " Ned smiled in recognition. The tales about  _the Prince that was Promised_ , Azor Ahai and the Last Hero from the tales of the Long Night, her favourite.

Ned sighed at his daughter's antics, knowing he should've realised. " _How about I tell another one to you?_ " He suggested lightly, " _You've read that numerous times, Lia. Surely you've grown tired of their tales?_ "

She narrowed her eyes at him and tilted her head. " _There will come a day after a long summer when the stars bleed and the cold breath of darkness falls heavy on the world. In this dreaded hour a warrior shall draw from the fire a burning sword._ " She paused, feeling proud by her vast knowledge of remembering information Maester Luwin had told her of. " _And that sword shall be Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes, and he who clasps it shall be Azor Ahai come again, and the darkness shall flee before him._ "

He chuckled and nodded, " _All right, sweet girl. Join your mother and siblings, enjoy the tale she tells and pray you sleep peacefully before the wolves come to get you!_ " He pulled her into his arms and poked her playfully, tickling her sides as she tried to escape.

" _You're too slow, you old man._ " She mocked, dodging his hands as he tried to grab her once she was free from his grasp.

" _Do you think so, sweetling?_ " And at that, Eddard pulled her into his chest again and laughed at her struggle. " _Not quite the warrior, but we'll get there... perhaps._ " Suddenly, he felt a small force around his shoulders, glancing back he saw Robb trying to pull him to the ground while dangling in the air. " _Oh, no!_ " He jested, seeing Jon run over to assist Robb.

Together, the three of them managed to force Ned Stark to the floor, rendering him helpless but no less laughing.

* * *

Jolting up from her place on the bed, Eliana glanced around the room to see it empty apart from the sleeping body beside her, snoring softly. Smiling, she ran a hand through his hair, causing him to moan in his sleep and roll over.

Dropping her hand, she pushed herself off the bed and sighed, her mind trailing to Jon after the dream.  _A memory!_  Pulling on a tunic, she turned her eyes to watch the sun as it glittered through the drapes to blind her. There was no hope for her to fall asleep after that, none.

It was the first dream since her father had died, the first dream where she'd seen his face, his kind eyes, his loving smile. The first time she could remember him without wanting to collapse and cry in a heap upon the floor beneath her feet. The first time she truly felt vigorous and impenetrable. However, it wasn't the first time she'd dreamt of her brothers.

Though only when they were children, never grown or matured, and for that she was thankful, thankful for the happy memories that would always be with her, ones she could cherish for all eternity.

The memories that would never pass into nothing, which would live on through her.

Leaning against the table, she swallowed hard and closed her eyes for a mere moment, in order to collect herself. Moving her hand to stretch, she paused when her fingers touched a sharp edge that pricked her finger. Turning sharply, her eyes fell open the sword she'd yet to name.

Valyrian steel, incised with runes and sapphires... perhaps Obara and Sansa could find a suitable name; one of beauty and grace.

However, her gaze wandered to what laid beneath the blade, something that had gone unnoticed which she was slightly astonished she hadn't seen.  _A missive?_  Pushing herself off the table, she flew around the table to take the missive into her hands, her eyes moving to Oberyn who still lay sleeping in their bed. Turning it thrice in hand, she paused at the seal.

A black seal of a crow.  _The Night's Watch_.

 _Why would the Night's Watch be writing to me of all people?_  But as her fingers ripped off the seal, she knew there was only one possibility.  _Jon_. And she was right, it was from Jon.

_Lady Eliana Stark of Winterfell and Princess of Dorne,_

_You need to prepare for the Wildlings if they attack, more are passing the Wall as we speak and soon we will be at War. If Castle Black falls they will turn to the South. No one believes me, but you have to, we're blood. I snuck into their camp to gain knowledge of their plans, it almost got me killed. Their leader, he has one hundred thousand men at his command including giants. We have few men left, most died when they travelled North with Lord Commander Mormont who also passed. I went north with them, and their forces are strong - stronger than I've ever seen. If it comes to war, we won't win._

_I've heard of_ _Robb... I should have been there... I only wished I hadn't taken my vows, then perhaps I could've helped prevent all this in some way - I don't know, you always said our paths were set out for us before we even started down them, you and Catelyn both... and I guess you were right. Though, I hope to see you again soon... I need to see a friendly face after all this horror that has been brought upon us._

_Always and Forever,_

_Your brother,_

_Jon Snow,_

_Bastard son of Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell, of the Night's Watch._

Eliana glanced up from the missive and sighed deeply, after allowing her eyes to ghost of the hand of her brother. "Another war?" She asked herself in wonder, knowing Wildlings were more dangerous the Southern folk but first she would consult those who needed to know.

* * *

It wasn't until dawn did she gather them all to listen to the news she'd finally heard, not knowing how long it had truly lingered upon the desk. All those who needed to hear the words of Jon Snow, stood before her, waiting patiently.

"Why is he here?" Oberyn announced, drawing Eliana's attention to him as she stood watching Jaime enter the room to stand beside Catelyn. "He will be removed; he is not needed here."

As Markas, Irraro and Jarrad moved towards Jaime, Eliana suddenly spoke up. "I asked him here... why else would've he come?" She watched as all turned to frown at her judgement, clearly not agreeing with her choice. "You think because he is a Lannister, he is not to be trusted? It seems quite a few of you have taken to Tyrion. My friends have you forgotten he bears his brother's blood?"

"No." Several announced in unison, while Catelyn and Brienne stood in silence.

Eliana smiled and gestured to Jaime, "Ser Jaime here, has sworn himself to me, despite he had no to reason to do such a thing." She asserted confidently, wanting to kill all the uncertainty lurking in the room unwanted. "I trust him and that is all you need to concern yourself with."

Feeling self-assured he was safe in the room, Jaime let a smile escape. "I'm glad we're all friends here." His comment wasn't needed by all the glares and growls he received by simply speaking.

Clapping his hands together, Thomos drew the attention of everyone in the solar. "I believe the Queen has something to say." It was a scold, though it sounded like a threat to Jaime's ears, but he quickened nonetheless.

Rising from her chair, Eliana licked her lips before she began to speak. "My brother, Jon Snow, of the Night's Watch has written to me upon a very important matter that may interlude with our original plans of vengeance against those who have wronged us." Her eyes flew across the faces of each of them, "Winter is coming, but this time is brings a new enemy for us to fight; Wildlings. They are fleeing the North to live in our lands, they are fearful of something that moves within the night."

"A long winter?" Irraro questioned.

Markas scoffed, slapping upside the head. "No, you fool."

"Wights..." Jaime answered, watching as everyone turned to face him as he spoke, allowing his anxiety to flutter through his heart. "White walkers."

Smiling, Eliana nodded. "And you say he doesn't know... why else would the Free Folk be fleeing their lands? They cannot survive against them, they cannot be killed as they're already dead, either we aid them or we kill them. If given suitable lands, I believe the Wildlings could settle and- "

"How can you trust the word of a bastard?" Catelyn voice rung through air, vexation doing nothing to soften her anger that her daughter was heeding the advice of Jon Snow. Looking around, she noted that the entire room had gone eerily quiet.

Clenching her fists and jaw, Eliana closed her eyes at her mother's regard for Jon, hating every word spoken. She knew her mother would have something to say about it, especially if it was Jon. Shaking her head, she looked up at Catelyn. "Jon is as much a brother to me as Robb, Bran and Rickon were."

The words fractured Catelyn's heart, the attack evident as it settled along her face, seeping through crevices to infect her to the point where she was sickened. "He is not my son, which makes him no kin of yours!" Catelyn had charged forward to meet Eliana as she moved around the table to meet her daughter.

If Eliana was honest with herself, she was struggling to rein in her own fury as her mother criticized Jon. "He has father's blood, as do I, that makes us kin." Her reply only seemed to agitate Catelyn further, knowing how to get under her mother's skin.

Sensing the tension, Oberyn turned to face everyone, seeing the concern and shock battling across their faces on whether or not to intervene. "Clearly, you have matters to discuss... we'll leave the both of you." The Viper said to no one in particular, throwing back his gaze to see the staring match between the mother and daughter.

Not wasting any time in hesitating, with Brienne leading the group filtered from the room, with both Jaime and Oberyn lingering as they spared one last look at the pair still staring at one another. "Shouldn't one of us stay?" Jaime whispered to Oberyn.

"I think not, a fight between a wolf and her pup should not be witnessed." And with that they both walked through the door, letting it shut on its own as they follow the others down the hall.

As soon as they were gone, Eliana finally spoke. "You are a cruel woman..." She hissed, glaring at her mother. "I always defended you."

But Catelyn's response didn't settle the dispute. "He's a bastard."

"He always said you hated him, no boy should be able to see that, let alone recognise it but you never even tried to hide your hatred. A child without a mother and you hated him, it wasn't Jon's fault... he never asked for this, do you think he wished for you to hate him?" Eliana moved towards her, watching as Catelyn backed away, almost cowering at her words.

"He- " Catelyn tried until Eliana interrupted her.

"What about when he called you mother and you turned him away?"

Catelyn winced, the memory had grated on her for years, and she always felt some sort of repentance for doing such a thing. Something she had done simply because she was jealous of his mother, a woman he would never come to know.

* * *

Jon was with Robb, playing with his half-siblings toys, while Catelyn was sewing and Eliana sat continuing her lessons with Maester Luwin in the corner of the room. Catelyn had been sat in a chair when Jon had pushed himself up on his feet, tottering over to her.

Catelyn glanced down at the boy who looked so much like her Ned, enough to make her heart ache as his big grey eyes stared up at her while a smile, warm and innocent, worked its way onto his little pale face. He took another step, clasping a fistful of her skirt to steady himself as he stumbled. " _Mama..._ "

At the word, Maester Luwin looked over so quickly that his neck might have snapped, making Eliana jump at his sudden movement, however Robb simply nodded in agreement, encouraging the boy further. " _Mama!_ " He repeated, drawing Eliana's attention as she, too, smiled.

It broke Catelyn's heart, truly it did, but she had to do it and rid the boy of his warming smile. " _No, Jon._ " Her voice met him, gentle, but firm and unwavering. " _I'm not your mother._ "

Such a sweet and loving smile, the loveliest Jon had ever shown, soon dipped as he glanced at Robb once again, clearly confused by Catelyn's words, then back at the woman before him. His smile continued to dip until a frown took its place. " _But..._ " The frown grew as did the confusion in his big grey eyes. " _Mama?_ "

Catelyn shook her head at the boy. " _No, Jon. I am not your mother._ " Slowly she felt the pressure on her skirt decrease, Jon had let go and backed away from her. " _Jon, you have a different mother... I am Lia and Robb's mother but I'm not yours, you have a different mother._ "

At her words, Jon's lip trembled, and looked as if he was ready to cry. Catelyn looked to Luwin who shook his head, clearly disagreeing with how she'd approached the situation, but Jon needed to know... just not from her. " _You cannot call me mother, Jon; because I'm not your mother... do you understand?_ "

She expected Jon to say something, to ask more questions but he nodded and returned to his spot while she watching him, her heart clenching when he didn't resume playing with the toy knights and just sat there. Once again she looked to Maester Luwin, who frowned and pressed a kiss to Eliana's head before excusing himself from the room.

Robb immediately clambered over the toys to reach his brother, sitting down beside him while his sister remained seated at the table, her eyes glued to the book before her as she struggled to not comment on what she'd witnessed.

" _Don't cry._ " Robb flung his arms around Jon, hugging him tightly as he sniffled before he pushed Robb away. Still confused, Robb searched for Catelyn, tears swimming within his eyes, and she immediately regretted telling Jon such things because the truth hadn't only hurt Jon but her son as well, and that was the last thing she ever wanted to do - to hurt her precious little boy.

* * *

"He needed to know, Lia." She whispered, truly regretting telling him such a thing at a young age. "He did, but I didn't do it out of spite,  _he needed to know_."

Eliana took in a deep breath, "And father should have done it, if anyone was to, not you... you broke his heart that day." She explained, remembering the look upon Jon's face, the perplexity and hurt of not knowing.

"Your father made that clear."

* * *

Robb's gaze found his father's as he still hugged Jon, despite the other boy trying to escaped his clutched. " _Tell him!_ " Robb exclaimed, allowing the tears to drizzle down his cheeks.

Walking from his daughter's side, Ned quickly knelt before the two boys, his eyes stilling upon Jon as they stared at one another. " _Jon, what is the matter?_ " He asked, steadily trying to understand what he'd walked into.

" _Mother said Jon wasn't our brother._ " Eliana spoke up, knowing it would be hard for Robb and Jon to explain, at an age of six, she knew more than most and for that Catelyn disliked...  _too smart for her own good_.

Sighing, Ned smiled at the boys, placing a hand on both their shoulders. " _You are both my sons, and that makes you brothers... don't doubt such a thing._ " Ned knew how the thought had crossed the boy's mind.  _Cat_.

Meeting his wife's gaze, he saw it in her eyes, all he needed to know before he gathered both boys in his arms and carried them to the door where Maester Luwin was waiting to take them to their lesson. Once they had gone, he turned to his daughter. " _Go wait in the yard for practice, I'll be there in a minute._ " He said, stroking her cheek before Eliana ran off and out of the room.

" _Why?_ "

Catelyn, despite not accumulated with his tone, held her head high. " _Because he-_  "

" _He is an infant, a small child! You could have waited to say such things, at least until he was older - old enough to properly understand, Cat!_   _Now... look at the boy, he doesn't know what to think!_ "

" _I told you to send him away, send him elsewhere,_ " She snapped, glaring at him. " _To foster him somewhere else, but you disagreed, you wouldn't. Instead, you'd rather insult us all by raising your bastard with our true-born children!_ "

Drawing a deep, long breath Ned sighed, not wanting to lose all clarity as well as serenity by arguing. " _I will not foster him somewhere else,_ " His voice was cold, cold enough to strike her right through the heart as he turned away from her. " _He belongs here, in his home with his father and his brother and sister._ "

Once he was gone, she abandoned her sewing, remembering the day he'd return from the war with Jon... praying the Seven would take the bastard away and make her life perfect and content once more.

* * *

Shaking her head, Catelyn let her shoulders drop in defeat. "I know I shouldn't have done such a thing, that I should've waited until he was of a suitable age... but I couldn't and I don't know why! Honestly I didn't, and I still don't!" She stated, throwing her hands into the air.

"He was an infant... barely four." Eliana told her, watching the dread take its toll over her mother.

"I know."

Sighing, she observed her mother, questioning her guilt. "And then he caught the pox." She added, knowing Catelyn remembered that all  _too_  well.

* * *

" _What is the matter, Luwin?_ " Catelyn pressed as she pulled her robe tightly around her after she climbed from her bed, following the Maester out of her chambers as he led the away. She followed Luwin through the walls of Winterfell, listening to him as he informed her of the situation.

" _It's Jon, My lady, he gone into a fever but I'm not sure what from._ " He paused, turning to meet her eyes. " _But that's not why I've come; I fear he won't make it through the night._ "

Frowning, Catelyn didn't understand. " _How did he contract it, if no one else has been sick?_ "

" _The Greyjoy lad had stolen his furs, according the Robb, he's been sleeping without them... so I can only assume he must have picked up the fever after getting a cold, It will be a miracle if he makes it through the night._ "

She had to restrained herself as she almost relished in the news as it reached her ears, she hated the bastard. He was the walking, talking reminder that Ned's honour had wavered; that he'd been unfaithful to her... but Jon Snow was an innocent, nine year old boy.

Luwin pushed open the door, and let Catelyn in first and she almost gasped at the sight when it met her eyes. Jon was lying pale as snow on his bed while Robb and Lia sat by his side, both look drawn and upset, though she smiled when she saw that Eliana's furs were covering Jon's body.

" _Mother!_ " Robb called, " _It's Jon... he won't die, will he?_ "

Catelyn looked at her son, seeing his wide eyes with the tears glistening across the cyan waters, he was trying so hard to not cry. She smiled at him, running a hand through his hair, her beautiful Robb...

" _Go get some rest, Robb,_ " Catelyn spoke, planting a kiss in his hair. " _I'll watch over him._ " Robb nodded, knowing he was being dismissed; however Eliana looked reluctant to leave. " _You too, Lia._ " She added pressing a kiss against her cheek.

Following to the door, she turned and looked back at her mother. " _Don't let him die._ " She said, though it sounded more like an order, a plea that Catelyn had to see through. Nodding, Eliana left.

Catelyn shared a look with Maester Luwin, soon glancing down at Jon Snow who was paler than usual, dark bruises beneath his eyes. He was shivering, despite the blanket of sweat gathered upon his face and neck. Pushing back the curls upon his hair, Catelyn into Robb's empty chair and ignored the Maester as he spoke, instead she sat thinking of how many times she'd wished the boy dead.

When he beat Robb at anything, when he laughed with the children, when he laughed with Ned while sparring... some many petty things.  _Please_ , she folded her hands together.  _Please keep him safe. Jon Snow does not deserve to die._

Knowing there was only one thing she could do, Catelyn made her venture to the Godswood, past Maester Luwin in search for anything; sticks, twigs, vines and flowers... she grabbed them all before she bundled them up in her skin as she rushed back to the castle.

Upon her return to Jon's room, Luwin sent her an odd look, wondering the she'd left to swiftly. " _What are you up to?_ " He pressed, clearly lost by her intentions.

" _What I do for each of the children when they're ill; a prayer wheel._ " She said as her fingers began to work, tugging a vine through the twigs to lock them into the place, as they shook uncontrollably.

She continued to work into the night, making sure the wheel would guide Jon through the darkness, making it strong. Dawn broke through the windows when she finally finished her work, placing the wheel above his head before she watched him, the light reflected off his skin. It was then she began to mutter. " _Let Jon live... if he lives, I'll forgive him... I'll treat him like my own. Let him live and I'll be a mother to him. I'll make him a true Stark... let him live._ "

* * *

"I never wished for him to be- " Catelyn tried to explained herself and her mistakes.

But Eliana wouldn't hear of it, "But you wished him dead, you wanted him to disappear so you could be happy, you wanted Jon gone and out-of-the-way." There was a fierceness Catelyn had never witnessed before, perhaps it was only meant for her siblings, but Catelyn was unfamiliar with how highly she regarded Jon but she found herself liking the side to her daughter she'd just discovered.

"Yes!" Catelyn exclaimed, allowing herself to find give in. "Yes, I wished the boy dead for nineteen years! I wanted him gone, gone from our lives so I could be happy." She'd exploded all at once, years of cooped up fury finally flowing freely. "How do you think it felt for me? Having to look at a boy that wasn't  _mine_ , to watch him with  _my_  children, with  _my_  husband. How do you think it felt?"

Eliana had never thought about it that way, she'd only seen Jon's side, seen the way he'd been treated by her mother. Never considered how her mother felt because she was too often comforting Jon after her mother had hurt him, too busy consoling the boy when he had done nothing wrong. "I just can't believe you threw him out of his own home, refusing to let him say his goodbye to Bran."

* * *

She'd heard the entire thing, of how her mother wished Jon dead rather than Bran, she attempted to draw in a soothing breath but nothing could retain the resentment radiating from her. She pushed the door open and her mother looked up in disbelief, her eyes wide, most likely expecting Jon.

" _Lia,_ " She wiped her eyes free of the tears, clearing her throat, not wanting to appear weedy in front of her daughter. " _I thought..._ "

" _You thought I was Jon? No, I think you truly forced him away this time, for good._ " She declared, walking to the bed where her brother lay motionless. " _How dare you say such things to him... what has he ever done to hurt you? By living?_ "

Her mother stiffened and glanced away, unable to meet her gaze. " _Lia, now is not the time... do you not see your brother? Do you see him lying before you, broken?_ "

The young woman scowled. " _Yes, I see him lying there, broken beyond repair. My brother, my sweet little brother, loves Jon as much as Jon loves him... we all love Jon and he would do anything for us as we would do for him._ " Eliana saw her mother nod, " _How would Bran feel if he heard your words to his beloved brother?_ "

Upon hearing her words, Catelyn began to weep again. " _Please, just stop._ "

" _Mother, I don't wish to hurt you... but you can't continue to blame Jon for his sheer existence. He's had to pay for that his entire life; it could have turned him into a cold-hearted, bitter person who hated us all, who hurt us, your children._ "

Shaking her head, she finally met her daughter's gaze. " _He wouldn't dare, I wouldn't let him and your father wouldn't allow it…_ "

" _Are you so blind that you cannot see he would never do such a thing because he loves us as much as we love him!_ " Eliana roared in absolute frustration. " _Jon should hate us, but unlike you, he is too forgiving but he will never forget all you forced upon him._ "

She was quiet for a few moments, her eyes shifting to Bran before she spoke. " _It was wrong of me to say such things; I would not wish any fate upon my own child. Do you honestly believe that I don't know how wrong it is to feel the way I do? I look at that boy and I see another woman, a woman your father bedded, who held his love enough as he will not name her._ "

Eliana sat on the edge of Bran's bed. " _Jon is not his mother, you cannot blame him... he's never known her. We are part of you and father, and Jon is part of father which makes him part of us; we had a mother's love, he got his strength and nurturing from what we gave him. Robb and I would always stay with him when he grew sick or scared as he could not go to your bedchamber if he had bad dreams._ "

" _Sansa taught Jon how to be courteous to a lady while I taught him how to dance in the Godswood, just as you taught me. The first baby he ever held was Arya, and he told her of the warrior princesses because you didn't know the stories. If Theon was ever mean to either of them, Jon would threaten to fight him because he knew if Robb did he would get into trouble._ "

Running a hand through Bran's hand, she smiled. " _When Old Nan's stories gave Bran bad dreams, he would run to Jon because he wanted to be brave like his brothers, like his father and Jon would tell him that he didn't always have to be brave and that it was fine to be scared._ " Looking back at her mother, she sighed deeply. " _I remember every day for weeks a few moons back, Rickon dragged him into the crypts to ask him about our ancestors, and no matter the questions, same or different, he would answer them._ "

Eliana and Catelyn sat quietly for a moment, silent in thought. " _Jon is good, and he wants to be a good man… the Wall isn't an easy place, and it won't be easy for him. He has grown up in Winterfell with all of us, at the Wall he will be surrounded by rapists, thieves and murderers and worse, and unlike Jon, they don't have a choice; men with no honour or decorum. He'll never sleep in a soft, warm bed again; he'll never love a woman so all my dance lessons will go to waste. He'll never old his own daughter or comfort his boy… he will never have children to teach._ "

" _I'm proud my brother has chosen a path such as the Wall, but I'd rather see him here surrounded by his family._ " She let out, remembering how she'd tried to sway Jon to stay. " _Jon is naïve; he sees being a man of the Night's Watch to be an honourable duty, where he can achieve greatness, and earn respect… that will never be the case, not for a bastard._ " Eliana let out another sigh. " _What he'll get will be a hazardous, chilly, wilderness and he will be sure to lose all the joy he has… all he will have will be his memories and the visits every once in a while."_

Catelyn reached out and took her hand. " _Your uncle will watch over him, for you, your siblings and your father._ "

She pulled away her hand, " _I don't want Benjen to watch over him, I want to watch over him but because of you I can't._ "

* * *

"I have not seen Jon for more than two years…" Eliana informed her mother, wanting nothing more than to see Jon. "And you still have to audacity to stand there and be so cruel… I would do  _anything_  to see him, and I would do  _anything_  for him."

Catelyn lowered her head, "I'm sorry, truly, jealousy is a ghastly thing and I allowed it to shroud my judgement. Jon has grown into a fine man, and I'm glad to have witnessed it but he will never be my son."

"And I know that … blood doesn't end in family, mother, and I think family applies to  _you more than anyone_." Eliana stated, her eyes growing sad. "He almost died."

She nodded, glancing up. "I know, I know I am a cruel, black-hearted woman to wish such a fate upon an innocent child- "

"No." Eliana shook her head, watching the confusion lace her mother's features. "A Wildling shot him with three arrows… he went beyond the Wall with the Lord Commander, snuck himself into a Wildling camp to gain knowledge of their plans…  _he risked his life_ , and no will know his name. He'll be known as a crow for the rest of his life."

Catelyn observed her daughter as she spoke, watching her as he finally show all the love she held for Jon Snow. "I prayed for him…" The words made Eliana's gaze shoot towards her. "After you'd gone, I prayed to the Seven to watch over him, to keep him safe."

Her words seemed to still her daughter.

* * *

Her daughter was exact; Jon was not to blame and she would blame him no more, she would not continue to be the woman struck with jealousy who strove so hard to drive him from his home. She would be the woman she knew she could be if she tried hard enough. She would be a mother to Jon Snow, no matter how old the boy was, she would be a mother to him.

" _Judging Father, Nurturing Mother bear witness to plea… do not let Jon Snow pass into memory, keep him alive for me, and if not for me, for my children's sake, I beg of you keep him alive; Moral Warrior, Potent Smith grant strength to Jon as he journeys to the Wall, keep him sturdy and tough; Insightful Crone, Tender Maiden grant me with the power to love him as if he were my own, I beg you to grant him the wisdom to live on through the nights, to keep him safe._ "

" _Unfathomable Stranger it is to you I pray the most, please protect Jon from all those who would do him harm. I plea to you with all my strength, who the outcast take comfort in I beg to you; do not let Jon become one of your own, allow him the love of a family, to know the warmth of a lover's touch, to feel the joy of holding his own child, to witness his own son or daughter grow. Please keep him safe, please keep him alive._ "

With another deep breath, Catelyn continued.

" _Oh virtuous Seven, I pray to you all… keep Jon safe and keep him alive, change his destiny if you must, bring him home to us and I will have my husband give him a proper name, he shall bear the name Stark, he will equal to his siblings, he will be one of us. I pray to you Father, Mother, Warrior, Smith, Crone, Maiden and Stranger. Keep Jon safe and keep him alive, bring him back to us, his family._ "

Feeling an immense weight lifted from her shoulders, she let out a great sigh of relief and for the first time she smiled as she thought of Jon Snow, she smiled at the thought of him becoming Jon Stark.

* * *

"No matter how much I tried to deny it, he is a Stark and I would have him be called nothing else." Catelyn admitted, watching Eliana's mouth fall agape. "He  _will_  be Jon Stark, and no longer Jon Snow."

A smile broke out onto her Eliana's face, but now she had to think of how to get Jon legitimised, so he would bear the rightful name of his ancestors.  _Jon Stark_.


	42. Dangerous Liaisons

_... garden is blooming in sun as the rose tangles around the whelp. The dove flies higher and higher though, soon she will fly too far away and her mother will not be able to protect her; unless the mockingbird is there to protect, offering some solace in these dark times._

"I assume you didn't ask me here to just sit quietly?" Olenna muttered, watching as Eliana scribbled across a piece of parchment, intrigued to know of any new developments in their plan to rid the realm of Joffrey. However, her gaze strayed to the man stood at the door. He was gaunt and exceptionally tall for a youth... or at least she thought he was in his youth.

Eliana smiled, her eyes flickering to Olenna as she studied the woman silently. "You would be correct; I most certainly do not wish for you sit quietly." She informed, pouring hot wax after she'd folded the missive, pushing her seal onto the splurge of steaming liquid to reveal a shining direwolf.

The older woman sat forward in interest. "To whom are you writing, I assume it is important, yes?" She pressed, raising a brow in question.

"I am writing to Lord Baelish."

It was a few moments before she spoke, which meant she was trying to figure out how Petyr Baelish would aid them in their plan to remove Joffrey. "I wasn't aware you and Baelish got along... not after he betrayed your father." She acknowledged slowly, her eyes narrowing at the girl as she handed the scroll to the man stood at the door.

"We don't; my father died because of him, he betrayed him and my mother both... but I need his help with something that I know he can't refuse, not unless he wishes to be without a head." Eliana explained, placing it in Jarrad's hand and giving him a hard look. "Do not give this to anyone apart from Lord Baelish, tell him I sent you."

With one nod, the giant left the room.

Olenna watched him curiously, he was from the North that much she knew.  _A Karstark? A Bracken? A Umber? A Glover?_... For all she knew he could be any one of them. "Rather odd fellow..." She began, hoping for Eliana to shed more little on the man.

"His loyalty comes without charge."

"Do you plan on how you are going dispose of the monster?" Olenna pressed suddenly, making Eliana frown in thought at the change of subject, clearly showing she hadn't come to a decision upon that matter.

Sighing, she clicked her tongue. "I think you will agree with either the Strangler or Manticore venom." The two she spoke of seemed to delight the old woman, as she probably knew they were two of the most violent poisons, causing the victim to die in agony. Eliana took her sack into her hands, and turned to Olenna, holding out her arm. "You'll have to excuse me, lady Olenna, but I have a sparring lesson with a one-handed man... do you wish for me to walk you to the gardens?"

"That's an offer I must insist upon, little wolf." The old woman raced to her side, more than willing to be led to her flock of hens, though she couldn't help but feels the girls was hiding something though, she chose to not press any further on the matter. "Who are you planning to spar with, may I ask?"

Olenna's grip of her arm made Eliana smile, she had the same grip of her mother... firm yet somewhat gentle, the resemblance was uncanny and it made Eliana cringe by the mere feel. "Jaime Lannister... a one-handed man needs all the help he can get," It was true, she'd agreed to aid him when Bronn was busy with Tyrion seeing as though he desperately needed training know that he'd lost his sword hand.

"He's quite dishy isn't he?" Olenna murmured only just low enough for her to hear as they weaved through halls and deserted yards. Rolling her eyes, Eliana glanced at her and the woman frowned. "What... don't you agree?" Olenna questioned the woman to see her face still as placid.  _"Oh my dear_ , if I were a young as you I would not hesitate,  _not at all_."

Laughter finally escaped Eliana's mouth even as she shook her head at Olenna, finding the woman who seemed to bring her nothing but laughter... no wonder her sister favoured her company, she wondered if her mother would like her also. "I am married." She reminded Olenna plainly, keeping her voice controlled and low, not wanting her to get any wrong ideas about her feelings to and for Jaime - she loved Oberyn and he was her husband.

The gravel path crunched beneath their feet as the strolled, screaming in agony as the surface of their boots landed upon the small bodies below, bearing immense amounts of weight upon them to where they fled once released. The gardens were truly something else in King's Landing... striking and majestic they grew, flourishing brilliantly in the sun but they were undeniably inordinate and excessive.

Nodding, Olenna agreed silently but she couldn't help but think there was more to it than there appeared to be, she feared the girl was goading her down an unwanted path, to a road she needn't want. "Oh, that may be but I've seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is looking, the longing... I'm old enough to know when a man loves a woman, especially one he can't have."

Eliana didn't reply straight away, yes that she already knew,  _gods_  Jaime had reminded her that he loved some many times since Harrenhal... did he think she would forget such a thing after being told? "The man I love is a little bit messy, a little bit ruined... a beautiful disaster, just like me." She asserted, tightening her grip upon her sack.

Spotting her hens, Olenna sighed deeply as her shoulder dropped, feeling as old as she truly was. "You are young, don't settle for a dull life where all you are is miserable; don't settle to bringing up children, don't settle to please your husband..." She trailed off, regretting her own choices in her life and choosing to issue Eliana advise that would guide her safely through the darkness that would try consume her, the want, the need, the lust, the greed. "You must please yourself above all others if you are to have a content life."

When she was finished, the older woman departed and left Eliana to her thoughts... and the voices in her head that haunted her to no end.

* * *

Queen Cersei was drunk when she had tried to walk through Eliana's shoulder. Eliana could smell the wine on her just by having her walk into her, that and her unfocused eyes and flushed cheeks. "Eliana." The queen stumbled on her feet, "Where's my fool of a brother?"

Catching her arms, Eliana steadied her to prevent the woman from falling. "I don't know where your brother is, Your Grace... have you asked Tyrion, perhaps he would know where your brother is?"

Cersei shoved her away with a sluggish attempt. "Good lot of use he is, the cripple... he can't protect my son, will he wave his stump and scare off people who wanted him dead?"

"Let me help you to your chambers." She suggested, wondering why she was this heavily drunk this early anyway.

"It's the middle of the day," Cersei snapped, almost catching Eliana in her taut jaws. "I have a king- kingdom to rule."

 _You're in no condition to rule anything_ , Eliana thought. She tried to warm to Cersei, she had, but Cersei Lannister made it hard not to dislike her. "Your Grace..." She hesitated, trying to choose her words carefully as if to not offend the woman. "Your Grace, you've had too much wine."

She hadn't realised she had been slapped until Cersei's eyes widened in shock at her actions. Eliana herself was also astonished by the action. She'd seen Cersei strike Jaime in Winterfell and she'd witnessed her throwing things at her maids but never did she expect to be hit herself. "Oh, it is acceptable for a man to drink as much as he wishes... no one ever told my husband he drunk too much," Cersei was saying," The blundering oaf was always drunk but no told him and instead they offered him another cup!"

Eliana tried her best to not laugh when her eyes fell upon a dark stain on the front of Cersei's gown. "Forgive me, Your Grace, but I believe you might wish to change your clothes." She gestured to the stain as Cersei glanced down, showing she hadn't realised she'd spilled wine of herself.

Seeing the wine stain seemed to sober her somewhat, and she fell silent all the way to her chambers. "Indolent whore..." She muttered, glancing around for her maid though the room was empty. "Lucky for you, you're going to have to help me."

Turning around, Cersei lifted her hair for Eliana to undress her. Eliana undid the laces of her gown and helped her out of it, seeing that the wine had soaked through into her small clothes. Cersei let her thought be known when she saw, tearing the garments from her body. She stared as Eliana searched to find clean clothes for her but she interrupted her. "Don't bother."

Eliana frowned when she watched Cersei make for the table that had been set with a new pitcher of wine, and rolled her eyes when she poured herself out a cup of wine. She poured a second cup. "Have a drink, little wolf."

Despite how much she wanted to decline the offer, Eliana had not choice but to accept the cup, taking a small sip if mean to appease the queen. Cersei smiled at her, and Eliana struggled to see the resemblance between her and Jaime, Jaime was nothing like his sister...  _not now_. Yes, they shared the same thick golden hair and the same glittering verdant eyes but that was all.

When Cersei raised her hand, Eliana thought she was going to slap her again but instead her hand fell upon the armoured vest covering her chest, and soon she was frowning at her. "What does my brother see in you?" She murmured.

Eliana's brow deepened, trying to decipher whether the queen was being genuine or she being mocked by Cersei Lannister. "I don't know, Your Grace."

"You may beat the best of them at combat, but you're still only a woman. I am the Queen, you're a Princess but you would prefer to be a knight, and yet no even the poorest man would be willing to trade bodies with us." Removing her hand from Eliana's chest, Cersei pulled herself out of the strange mood she'd adapted to and crossed the room to where her bed sat calling to her. "Do not allow anyone to disturb me."

Eliana understood herself to be dismissed. "Yes, Your Grace." Bowing her head, she backed out of the room and stood guard outside her chambers, despite knowing she would be late to Jaime.

* * *

The clash of metal on metal sent shocks vibrating up through Jaime's arm while he adjusted his grip his sword. He gritted his teeth and stepped out of Eliana's reach, though his movements were damnably slow, which was odd considering it was only a hand he was missing. He clumsiness was impossible to hide, probably more so than his hand, but his honour kept him fighting, thank the gods.

Dancing backwards before parrying with a sharp thrust, Jaime swept his sword in a defensive arc but his blade was turned away and his missed, but it was nearly a hit - closer, he was getting closer.

He was too busy celebrating his small victory to only be pulled from it viciously as her blade clipped the top of his arm, firm enough to make him flinch. If she had used an edged blade, he'd have been skewered.

"You need to remember to shield your right," Eliana shouted as she watched his victory fade from his face. "You can move around all you want but you need to land your hits... you're still fighting as a right-handed man when you are without a right hand."

He clenched his jaw as he looked over at Eliana who stood waiting, chest heaving with no trace of mockery marred in her gaze, and neither did her voice sound laced with pity. "My new sword hand has a lot of catching up to do if it is to be even a ghostly imitation of my right." Jaime replied, smiling at her.

"What sort of practice is talking?" She teased, falling into stance once more.

Catching her gaze, he gathered himself to fall into stance as well, his fee moved beneath him without thought or premeditation. Though he met the requirements of strategy, he still neglected to protect his weak side and he'd grating blows to his shoulder and thigh, but that didn't meant he'd landed as many on his opponent.

The sun was still smiling high above the stone that shielded the courtyard from prying eyes, a couple of hours of light left; the stones beneath their feet were golden in the afternoon light, and the breeze cooled them both refreshingly.

Prowling gracefully, his eyes fell upon her face. A frown furrowed her brow, and the set of her lips were calculating, not irritated. She fought unmarred by emotion which Jaime always thought strange for her considering that she loved her family fiercely but it demonstrated her ability to stay rational immediately after each hit in order to defend and parry his attack. Her fire burned within, the fire he loved. Unlike his sister, who was all crackles and spitfire, Eliana burned robust and sturdy... she was the heart of the fire, where the hottest embers burned. Her fighting style was unshakeable: an incessant onslaught of unwavering belligerence that could easily be a man's downfall. Her face showed it all... fierce and intense.

They fought long, spirits both flaring and subsiding. Metal clattered and the shortness of breaths rung out in the cool air as Jaime persisted with what remained of his energy but he found himself yielding to Eliana's inexhaustibly which annoyed Jaime to no end.

Eliana rested her blade on the ground and she proceeded to remove her armoured vest, turning to look at Jaime who was sat staring at her, smiling like a fool. "You're beautiful when you're in your element, like this..." He said before he realised the words had crossed his mind but he didn't care, he wasn't ashamed to admit it - he wasn't afraid.

Eliana appeared as though someone had delivered a slap across her cheek, stunning her just like Cersei had done earlier.

"I owe you some gratitude." Jaime implored in an effort to change the subject. "For training with me, broken as I am."

It was a long moment before she spoke, regarding him thoughtfully and when she did her manner was pensive. "For me, in past experiences being underestimated is often an advantage and often the most fun."

"I believe it's only underestimating if the person can surpass assumptions and laugh in the face of those who doubted them."

He thought of how Eliana had never quarreled about his brokenness, but she didn't confirm he was broken either. But she had done something no one else had; she expected more of him, and Jaime found himself desiring nothing more than to please and if possible, avoid disappointing her.

Eliana turned and bent to pick up her things. "I've got to find my sister, Jaime. Your skills have improved immensely; perhaps Bronn would suffice as a suitable sparring partner to continue with your progress."

He was tugged her around before he'd even realised he'd marched across the courtyard, seeing the look of wonder on her face. He shook his head gently, dropping his hand from her forearm and couldn't help the twitch at the corners of his mouth, smiling fondly. "Would you really end our sessions just because I said you're beautiful?"

"Have you ever apologised for anything... I don't believe I've ever heard an apology fall from your lips." She replied, considering his face as she regarded with his eyes that seemed to pierce his soul.

Jaime continued to smile at her, reaching to brush a strand of hair from her hand and behind her ear, watching as he discovered something else within her eyes, something new, something soft and feeble... vulnerable almost. "You're impossible," Jaime said softly, and lent towards her to capture her lips with his own, letting out a groan of pent up desire curdled with frustration, pressing his mouth hard against hers, taking in the feel of her lips before choosing the break away.

Feeling him pull away, she pressed forward, gripping his arm with such a force that would prevent him from pulling away, and soon he was urging Eliana's mouth open to press his tongue against hers, allowing his desire to get the better of him, increasing his tumescence within his breeches and making him groan against her mouth as they begun a game of a tussle of tongues.

However Jaime broke the kiss suddenly, knowing he needed to stop before it went to far... before he took it too far. "I am yours." He vowed, staring at her, pressing his lips against her cheek.

Eliana nodded, her frown returning to its usual place and her guard returning once more, though her frown ceased when Jaime trailed his thumb of her lips. "Why did you marry him?"

"You already know why as does your father, though, I don't think he cares to admit it."

The closest thing to a smile Jaime had seen on her face in some time appeared, and it shone wondrously, escaping through the cracks of her hard exterior. Unable to rein himself in, he kissed it, gently.

"My Princess!" The pair turned to see Brienne clambering down the steps, her armour weighing heavy as she almost fell down the steep layers of stone. "It's your sister..."

Dropping her sack, Eliana stilled as she watched Brienne, seeing the fright evident on her face. "What about her, what's wrong?" She started towards Brienne, ready to catch the woman if she fell down the stairs from her hurry.

"She's with the King and Ser Meryn, they're beating her."

She swore she felt her heart stop, and Eliana all but ditched Jaime and ran of towards the Red Keep, her hand on the hilt of her blade at her waist knowing that she would need to draw the blade if she was to stop Joffrey's torment on her sister.

Meanwhile in the Red Keep, Joffrey sat upon the Iron Throne, clutching it as he sat forward and almost flying free from the chair with his usual menacingly, disgraceful smirk plastered across his face while Ser Meryn's bulking form strode towards her.

The initial blow knocked all the wind out of Sansa, her gasps of pain filling the room, the sound of a sword being drawn filled the crowd with a nervous energy, though none moved to aid her. Sansa prepared herself for the blow, her body tensing which was the worst thing she could have done. His sword smacked straight into her leg, ensuring her that a large red welt would be left in its stead, her knees buckled as she fell to the hard ground in a crumpled mess.

"Ser Meryn."

The impotent onlookers did nothing as Ser Meryn tore at Sansa's gown, allowing the humiliation to drown her. As Ser Meryn prepared to strike her again, a loud voice rang out through the room.

"Lay another hand upon her and you be without the hand."

Rows of heads curved in bewilderment, parting as the Stark girl's older sister made her way through, pushing and shoving some who refused to move out of her path until she was stood close enough to see what the little golden haired shit had inflicted upon Sansa.

"She must... be taught... a lesson!" Joffrey screeched, punctuating each word and barely able to keep his crown upon his head, his voice cracking at the last. "As my aunt by marriage, she owes me total submission!" He looked up defiantly as Eliana stalked purposefully toward him.

"You won't do it." She challenged, her gaze hazardously dark for someone with cyan eyes.

"I am Lord of the Seven Kingdoms." Joffrey sneered. "I can do what I want!"

She drew her blade from its sheath and watched as it glittered in the afternoon sun like the milkglass, blinding all the throne room as it became alive in the light. Running her hand along the blade, she hissed when it bite into her skin, drawing blood. "Nothing cuts like Valyrian steel, how would your face fare if I were to do so?" Pointing it in the direction of Joffrey, she smiled when he pressed himself hard against the back of the throne.

"Threatening the King- "

"Oh, shut up!" Eliana swung the blade, allowing it to grace Meryn's cheek in a swift rotation before it stilled at her side, leaving an expression of dumbfounded indignation and an even slice upon his right cheek, the blood escaping down his face.

Joffrey didn't say a word, too fearful of what she would inflict on him, the dread almost too much as his mind flew thoughts that would haunt him.

"In your final moments, I want you to remember these words:  _the Lannisters aren't the only ones_ _that pay their debts_ _._ " She wiped the blade against the bare skin of her arm, cleaning it before sliding it away. "Everything we are, we owe to our blood, and our name. You are nothing without a your name  _boy_ , but my sister is who she is because of our blood. The blood of the First Men runs within my veins and I bear name that was old before the Red Keep was even built." She offered Sansa her hand as she rose to her feet. "A name that sons and daughters will be born under long after you and I alike are rotting in the ground." Eliana caught the cloak that Brienne threw her, wrapping it around the shoulders of her sister. "What right do you have to dishonor it with your cowardice?"

"Cowardice! " Joffrey started toward the woman, but stopped abruptly when she turned her back on him, watching as Sansa walked to the giant cow at the bottom of the steps.

"She is no longer yours to torment."

"Everyone is mine to torment." He nodded to Ser Meryn for him to go after Sansa once more but Eliana had already foreseen the order before Joffrey had even given it so while the Kingsguard strode towards her sister, she sucked in a deep breath.

Her fist landed in the centre of his face, and she knew, the man wished he'd worn his helm that day. "By all means,  _boy_ , inflict you cowardice upon me but leave my sister be." She threw her eyes at Joffrey, watching how agitated his slowly became.

Pointing a finger at her, he seethed. "Bend the knee."

" _Never_."

* * *

She was to pledge her allegiance to Joffrey on the plaza before the Great Sept of Baelor - how ironic that she would be publicly humiliated like her father had been but like hell she would pledge herself to him! Her allegiance would live and die with the North... she would never allow herself to kneel before Joffrey Baratheon, he would have to break her legs if he wanted her to do such a thing.

As the bells continued to ring through the city, the crowd was multiplying by the second - merchants, beggars, stable hands, sailors... everyone came when the bells sounded, like they'd all been trained. The mutts were all ready gathered for their treat, for their share of the torture to come however, none cheered or poke misfortune at her which she thought odd... did they respect her? Did they hold any loyalty to a Stark? Did they respect her honour? She didn't know but she didn't want to bother for an answer, what could they do to help her?

Even as the guards led her through the crowd, she couldn't help but find the entire situation amusing and rather unnecessary. She hadn't been in the wrong, yet, there she was about to be tortured until she pledged herself to him. Where was the justice?  _... justice died with father_.

When she cast her gaze upon the plaza, Eliana found Joffrey waiting in disgruntlement, surging back and forth with his arms crossed and crown tilted as it lay upon his golden head. The boy wore a smirk, stained upon his lips that didn't falter for a second. Strangely, no one else joined him - though four men in head covers lurked as they waited to assist the King.

Would they allow such a torture for a woman? And from a noble house such as Stark? But before her stood Joffrey the Illborn, a child who cared not for the rules or justice, a child who paid no mind to anyone but himself. She would see no mercy, but neither did she want it.

She would not repent.

Turning to face the crowd, her eyes flickered across the rows of endless witnesses, the nobility separated from the poor and dying. But when she saw them gathered there, she didn't find herself regretting her choice. Was she meant to stand aside as Joffrey had Sansa beaten? She didn't care if he was the King, she would not see her beaten senseless.

At the very front, there was a mixture; Cersei, Pycelle and Varys along with the Tyrells, though none appeared to be content by the entertainment on display for them -either that or the resentment they held for one another- which continued to bring her surprise... well, none apart from Joffrey that was.

Beside her sister, stood her mother and Oberyn, both wearing strained looks and both probably cursing her for acting without thought. Then she saw Jaime and Thomos with Obara, when her eyes fell upon the girl she glanced away, unable to look at the two girls as they stood watching.

Before them stood the Kingsguard, standing frozen and firm, rigid in their place to prevent anyone from interfering with the King's plans. Even when Oberyn tried to move and aid his lady love, they reached for the swords, ready to draw them if the Dornishman persisted. Oberyn wasn't alone, Catelyn had also attempted to do something but she was held back by Ser Meryn, whose fingers dug deep into her skin, hard enough to break the skin and draw blood.

Jaime knew better than to try and intervene with Joffrey, knowing the consequences could and probably would be dire and so, no matter how much it pained him, he retained his desire to help her and fell silent beside her family.

Helpless, they were to watch without any hope of aiding Eliana in what was to come.

Almost jumping for joy, Joffrey sprung into the air when she was forced up the steps to join him on the plaza. His eyes glistened joyfully at the woman before him that would soon learn that to pledge herself to him was her only option. Clearing his throat, Joffrey turned his attention to the crowds, throwing them a snarling grin. The crowd seemed to roar their opinions but Joffrey slowly raised his hand and began to speak, and then the shouts died down again. "Now behold the awful price for treason under my rule!" He proclaimed, gesturing as the jailers wrapped ropes around Eliana's wrist and bound them securely.

Scoffing, Eliana eyed the golden haired shit, her eyes glowing into slits. "Is it truly treason if I pledged no allegiance to you?" Her voice was laced with irritation, challenging Joffrey further, hoping he would bite and make more himself appear an even more foolish ruler.

At her question, the crowd began to holler their opinions; protesting her innocence, defending her honour and faultless person, begging for Joffrey to let the woman go, showing they'd come to love her from a far and respected her more than the King himself.

However, Joffrey would never heed the advice of peasants. "You will fall to you knees now, declare yourself my loyal subject and beg for your life... and you shall have it." The King finally looked over to where she stood, then his gaze stilled and turned cold when she stood firm and rigid, motionless. "Have it your way then. Rope!"

Feeling the weight of the noose fall over her head to settle upon her neck, Eliana closed her eyes.  _Don't writhe, don't squirm, don't cry or scream... serenity will calm the mind, keep the thoughts pure and keep clarity with you._ The pain didn't bother her, but what did bother her was that her mother, sister and Obara were to watch pain be forced upon her.

Nodding to the jailers, Eliana was drawn into the air, the noose pulling taut around her neck and cutting off the air supply that galloped to her lungs. Her muscles tensed at the pressure, locking into place as she seethed through her teeth, her eyes squeezed shut as if to help her breathe.

She would have rather been poked full of holes by a dozen swords than be left dangling in the air like a dead corpse, humiliated for all the bear witness, for all to gossip and snigger.

The rope slackened thanks to Joffrey irritation; the crowd had not cheered at his actions, neither had they called for other means of torture and so he'd waved his hand and she sunk to the floor in a heap, gasping for air like a fish out of water.

"Pleasant, was it?" Joffrey lent towards her, holding out his cloak so it was almost pressed against her face while she crawled to her knees. "Rise to your knees and kiss the royal emblem of my cloak and you will live." He promised, the glint still evident in his eyes as he attempted to goad her.

Collecting herself, she kept her head lowered until her breathing evened out once more, until she was sure she wouldn't wheeze and pass out from the lack of air, until she was certain she could rise and stand before him.

But kneel she did not.

Despite the struggle, she clambered to her feet to stand before the boy King, her chest heaving hard but steady, her eyes unblinking as she glowed at him and thankfully standing at least two inches taller.

Their eyes locked onto each other's, the verdant meeting the blizzard, staring at each other she stood waiting for her punishment to be continued. She could see the fear in his eyes, the fear of being defied, the fear of losing to a woman.

Anger surged within him, his fists clenching at her persistent defiance to obey him. "String her up!" He exclaimed, his face transforming into a bruised state as the blood rushed to his face, turning it a rich cerise shade, almost the colour of his jerkin.

Feeling the weight of another burden slither around her ankles, Eliana let her eyes fly to rest upon the churlish sky above her as the weights around her wrists grew heavier though she didn't complain, instead she remained silent and simply endured what was to come.

His cloak billowing in the sudden gust of wind, Joffrey turned his head to nod to Ser Meryn, who soon ordered a stable-boy to lead the horse that the rope had been tied to away. Grinning from ear-to-ear, Joffrey stared in wonder as she was strung high into air the until she was hauled taut, her arms stretched until each muscle was on display for his eyes to see.

Straining, Eliana fought against the ropes, wanting nothing more to loosen the tight hold they had on her, wanting her strength to prevail if to end the screaming of her limbs. Letting her head drop, Eliana wrenched her arms into her chest as she felt the ropes loosen slightly, her entire body screeching in agony for the torture to end blissfully and sooner rather than later.

_Panting... as I ran through the undergrowth, bursting through the brush to bolt down a ruddy path to skid through a looming gate I somewhat recognised, King's Landing... the Dragon Gate on Rhaenys's Hill, growling and hissing as the Gold Cloaks that stepped into my path. I weaved around the market stalls and continued running, running..._

"Had enough have you?" She was brought harshly from her mind by Joffrey, who waved his hand once more and soon she was falling.

Eliana laid upon the plaza until she felt she pull herself up without feeling the sensation of total feebleness. Though, the pain had disparaged soon and left nothing but a dull ache, yet the sensation of being stretched still lingered. Swallowing deeply, she found her throat dry and strained from the coarse rope which had encircled her flesh only moments before.

But her mind trailed to what had just occurred, had she warged into Shadow's body... had the bond she shared with her direwolf been that strong? She'd seen through the eyes of Shadow, and he was close... Her eyes wandered across the crowd slowly, taking in all those she had fought against, to settle on Catelyn and Oberyn, the two she knew had risked all to fight for her. Not just for the North...but for freedom -  _freedom for all_.

"It can all end, right now. Peace. Bliss. Just cry out your allegiance to me."

Her eyes travelled to the boy saying the words, finding she had a strong temptation to spit on him, yell at him, curse him out - let every piece of fury in her soul out on the boy, yet she didn't, because she would not back down.

"Mercy! Mercy! Mercy!"

The chants filled her ears, and she knew the voice's not only came from her loved ones, but also from the peasants. So conventional amongst man; the want to do what one wants when the need emerges: the need to speak, listen and be heard - the need and want...

"Cry out. Just say it. Pledge yourself to me."

Never would the words pass her lips! Maybe she had not won the freedom for her country; maybe she had not won the freedom for herself; maybe she had never truly avenged her family. But, despite all, she would still fight to death for it all, for she would not repent.

"She wishes to say a word."

Her eyes met with her mother's, a smile of her face, as she knew she had to only look at her mother and her strength was retained, her fighting spirit returned to fuel her fire that burned within. She swallowed, eyes back on the boy who wanted her dead, forcing her eyes fully open and staring straight into those of the Illborn King, a half smile playing on her face.

"Jevys qrinuntys jemo paktot issa."

Joffrey's brow furrowed in perplexity, clearly misunderstanding the meaning of the statement that had graced her lips to meet his ears. He searched her face, waiting for some inkling that she'd said something that meant fealty, but there was nothing and so he sighed in vexation. "Again!"

But before she could be hoisted into the air to dangle any longer, the crowd parted and soon as figure was stalking towards them. Despite her eyes trying to focus upon them, Eliana couldn't make out who had arrived but as soon as his voice reached her ears, Eliana knew.

Tywin Lannister had become her saviour, something she hated to admit, and on multiple occasions.

The heels of his boots echoing against the white marble, Joffrey slowly met the verdant gaze of his grandfather, cringing as an eerily ponderous silence fell over the crowd and soon they cried out no more.

Shrinking as Tywin strode towards him, Joffrey looked to his mother to assist him but she remained impassive and gormless, offering no help for her son. Joffrey went to speak but he turned away and faced the jailers, nodding.

With no hesitation, the jailers released the ropes that clung to Eliana while slackened upon the plaza, her chest restricted as she attempted to control her breathing in order to disguise her discontent.

"Here." Eliana glanced up to see Tywin offering her hand, while he bore a dark brooding look up his face as she locked her hand into his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet despite the pain that flooded her joints she somehow managed to stand but what caught her attention was the concern that was evident on her face. "Are you all right?"

Nodding, Eliana steadied herself though her legs were crying out for release and demanding that she fell to the ground so they could breathe properly. It was when she started to walk did she truly feel to consequences of Joffrey's action, her entire body shook with something she'd never encountered; fragility. "We wouldn't want you to forget this now would we?" It was the Valyrian blade that reminded her of her agreement with the Mighty Lion, but still she took it from him, finding comfort in its chilled skin as she made for the steps, her fingers sting due to its bitterness. It was enough to remind her that winter was coming.

However, Joffrey was tired of his grandfather's constant upheaval. "No!" He proclaimed, perturbed that he still continued to thwart his intentions and mock him for all to see. "She refuses to pledge allegiance to me, she must obey her King!"

"Not today." Tywin stated firmly, no blood-thirst lurking within his gaze as he regarded his grandson, the boy should have not been crowned...  _too green_. "The entertainment is over, go home... now!" The peasants didn't need to be told twice, rushing and tripping over their own feet and they'd soon vanished from the stands to leave only the noble.

"Do you understand the difference between torture and punishment?"

Scoffing, Joffrey rolled his eyes as they found Tywin's own. "Of course I do, what do you take me for a fool?"

Tywin's expression clarified that he did indeed take him for a fool, the plain look that he didn't even bother to try and hide. "Torture is deliberate, systematic, cruel and a wanton infliction of physical suffering... you want a confession when the Princess has nothing to give you in return." He paused when Joffrey shifted on his feet, unable to meet his gaze. "I would like to think you called for a suitable punishment; to impose something aversive upon her in order to correct her disobedient or morally wrong behaviour but no, instead, you turn to torture because you are a conceited fool."

His insult angered Joffrey to end,  _a conceited fool? a conceited fool?!_ He clutched his fists as if to contain his fury but it soon raged free, and Joffrey would soon regret his poor choice of words. "You,  _old man_ , do you not tell the King what to do."

"You will not inflict any punishment or torture upon either Stark girls or their mother." Tywin gave Joffrey his ultimatum, wanting to know if he was to break it, he would soon know. "If I so much as hear word of such things I will teach you the true meaning of the words... and you will never do such things again."


	43. Nausea

Golden and Emerald they shone as they stared at her, glowing with grey and black fur as they ran through the wind. _"Here, Shaggydog!"_ Someone called, running in front of her to block her view. _"Summer!"_

The sun shone in her eyes, making her wince.  _"Stop! Stop it, you promised him mercy!"_ She tried to look forward, yet it felt as though someone's hands were pulling her head upwards, preventing her from gazing where she wanted. She'd been there before though; she remembered the sun beating down upon her and the jeers of the crowd that raged on around her.

She jolted back when wings blinded her vision; screams met her ears horrifically causing her to shudder when shivers chased down her spine. _"Don't just stand there, help your King!"_ Someone was shouting, though she couldn't make them out – a woman… that much she knew.

Gold glittered dangerously as it rolled across the ground, striking fear into the hearts of the crowds as they all stared forward, but she couldn't see – too many people were in front of her, blocking her view.

 _"Take him! Take him!"_ Someone else began to scream, their voice breaking as more gold flickered across her gaze, blinding her into darkness as a song began to fill her head, one she knew all too well.  _And who are you, the proud lord said, that I must bow so_ _low?_ As it rung through her ears, she knocked a table off its trestles and sent cups, flagons, trenchers, platters, and wine bouncing, spilling and sliding across the floor.  _In a coat of gold or a coat of red, a lion still has claws._ _And mine are long and sharp, my lord, as long and sharp as yours._

Her mother was shouting, " _Mercy!_ '' she had cried, but drums and the clash of steel smothered her plea. The drum beat slow and resonant, the sullen ceaseless pounding of the drum,  _boom doom boom doom boom doom_...  _boom doom boom doom boom doom_.

Her mother sat in a crumpled mess, blood running down her fingers, over her wrists and beneath the sleeves of her gown as it drizzled down her arms and under her clothes, staining both the fabric and her skin... and then the steel was at her throat, and its bite was red.

* * *

Sweat drowned her skin, flying in droplets when she sat up in a panicked rush, forcing herself from her slumber with wide eyes and a heavy heart.  _Doves? Singing? Screaming?_  Wiping her forehead clean, Eliana took in a deep breath to steady her uneven breathing when she realised she was crying, she was shedding tears at a mere dream that wouldn't occur.

But it had sent her heart cold and racing at the thought of such things... of watching her mother die, the screaming had rocked her mind into oblivion. Why would she dream such a thing? And why now? She was pulled from her thoughts when she heard whimpering and soon her face dropped at the sight of him trembling in his sleep, such a strong man whimpering like a child.

Rolling over to Oberyn, she pulled him into his arms as she wore a small frown. "I'm here, my love." She whispered over and over while stroking a hand through his hair but he could hardly breathe as he lay sweat-soaked and panicked, and it seemed not even she could calm him.

It was Elia who had haunted him that night, his dream had taken him to where he now lurked where he saw her die such a brutal death as if he'd been there to witness it in person, and then the children.  _The little children, his niece and nephew._

However, his breathing would not ease despite his wife holding him, but she knew what to expect when he whimpered in his sleep... the first time she hadn't known what to do, but she'd hope it would happen less often. His grief though, had other ideas, and appeared to retain the same intensity as the day he'd learned of Elia's fate.

"I am sorry, my love." He whispered, his voice still shaky but he wasn't as bad. Sighing, he lent into her embrace, gripping her hands as she held him close against her chest. "I didn't mean to wake you..."

She pressed a kiss to his lips, still holding him securely in her arms. "Soon you will have your awaited vengeance,  _we will_  do them justice... and then they will find peace as will you." Oberyn wanted to believe her, truly he did... but he'd waited so long and he was worried the rage wasn't as pure as it once was, wasn't as fierce as it once was. "But I would rather you were careful in doing so... you need remember only one thing; we are Martells, and we do not bow, nor do we bend and neither will we break."

As the days turned into weeks, Eliana found that Oberyn slept easier through the nights, though sleep rarely took her. If anything, she found herself tiring more easily and her back would ache endlessly... she dismissed it though and put it down to stress, probably from pretend that the deaths of her father and brother's no longer affected her, from sparring with Obara and Jaime and neither did she notice when her moon blood didn't arrive. Her mother had always said stress was the gift of the gods.

However, it was when her mother, Sansa and herself were on their way to visit the Sept did Eliana feel her blood run cold. Her sister was chattering away, her mother nodding as she listened intently, their hands linked as Eliana followed absently, her mind lost in thought and worry.

And suddenly she found herself counting back to when she'd last bled, concluding that it had been before she had wed Oberyn which was near two moons ago... how had she not known? Slowly, it dawned upon her what it meant... she'd always bled regularly, she was always prepared for when it came but this... this she had ignored all together. She must have been so caught up in planning vengeance against the Lannisters, and dealing with Tywin and supporting her family both. Her hands trailed downwards wonderingly, thinking of the life growing within her and the more she thought on it, the more it seemed true. She was with child... she was carrying Oberyn's child.

So lost in her thoughts, she didn't even hear the stout woman with a gnarled black cane approach her, hair so creamy and long it almost touched the ground as she swayed along. Eliana sucked in a sharp breath when she felt a bite upon her hand, turning around to see the woman with crimson eyes staring up at her, raising her hand to see a deep cut inflicted upon the skin to snake down the tips of her fingers. "What are you doing?"

Eyes laughing, the woman brought the blade to her lips and tasted the blood. "Blood of the First Men, I see you wolf child, you've seen it too... the old gods won't let us sleep, you saw it and stopped the woman who was a fish drifting dead along a roaring river, you saved her and she cried no red tears." Her words were enough to make Eliana freeze and stare down at her with a harsh glance.

As she went to speak, the woman raised her hand abruptly and rather rudely, silencing her. "All this I dreamt, and more... a wolf howling in the rain, but no one heard his grief... such a clangor I thought my head might burst, drums and screams, but the saddest sound was from the little one, merely a bump... what else I dreamt has yet to come, a maid at a feast with purple serpents in her hair, venom fresh and dripping from their fangs. I saw two pups lost in the snow, their tracks covered by the tails of scaled lions." Eliana's brow fell at the riddle, clearly trying to piece together its meaning as it was uttered. "A child with a noble name, fiery scales with a mane so rich of honour, Ric he shall be."

Feeling an empty air around her, Catelyn glanced back and saw Eliana had come to a halt at the bottom of the steps, an old woman clutching her hand and pulling her towards her as she saw her whisper into her ear.

Turning and picking up her skirts, Catelyn started back down the steps to reach Eliana, dread rocketing through her as she tried her best to not trip in her haste. "Lia!" She called, pulling Sansa's attention to her as she realised she'd been chattering away to herself when she thought her mother had been paying attention to her. After the Twins, she couldn't be too careless anymore or tender... her sons were dead before of a tender heart.

Her breath caught in her throat, when Sansa saw her sister standing before a stout old woman with a cane and her mother flying down to meet them. "Mother, what's going on?" Her voice rung out through the air shrilly, full of anxiousness.

"Lia!" Catelyn strode down the steps, ignoring Sansa to reach her eldest as the girl continued to bellow after her from her place upon the steps, losing herself in the worry that flushed through her like the waves that hit Riverrun.

But Eliana paid no mind to her mother, and instead listened wearily to the old woman before her as she continued speaking. "But you have so much more to witness through the eyes of the old gods, they will haunt your dreams and you will never sleep soundly again... you will wake weeping in the dark with no one there to comfort you; you will see dragon fire and the howling of wolves, venom will strike down men big enough to split others in two..." Her crimson eyes stilled eerily, her blood still shining upon her chapped lips. "The sun will beat down those who seek to take glory from those others built. You will see death, so much death... of your enemies and of those you love, of the wars past and those to come."

"And how do you know this?" Eliana pressed with slight caution, kneeling before the woman, her intrigue getting the better of her. "How do I know you are not playing some jest and all you've spoken is untrue?"

She smiled a toothless smile and pressed her hands on either side of Eliana's face to keep her face still and steady. " _The pups_ , the trees whispered to me one night, they told me the Kraken was thick and sloppy... he let them go and knew nothing of it. They are lost in the snow with the scaled lions, travelling with the half-wit." Her words were enough to make Eliana pull away from her grasp.

Despite how much she wanted to believe her words, Eliana couldn't... Bran and Rickon couldn't be alive, the world was not so just for her to believe such things that weren't true. Theon burned them when he took Winterfell, he murdered her brothers out of cold blood. "My brothers are dead." She denied her claim, her throat growing thick as she tried to swallow.

"You know nothing, Eliana Stark. You must believe, Robb believed." The woman cackled triumphantly, jolting slightly in anticipation at her reluctance. "The trees sing a new song..." And at her words, the woman began to sing.

_And who are you, the young wolf said, that I must bend the knee?_

_They forged a crown upon his head,_

_Beneath the Weirwood tree._

_You follow the law of a summer child_

_But winter's roaring free._

_When you kill the wolf, beware of his pack,_

_You'll fear our howls of war_

_And when the North brings its wintry storm_

_We'll hear no lions roar_

_And so he spoke, and so he spoke_

_The King of Winterfell_

_And now the wolves'll rid him of his rock_

_For all the realm to see_

_Yes, now the wolves'll rid him of his rock_

_For all the realm to see_

When she reached Eliana, she moved to grasp her shoulder firmly, Catelyn pulled her daughter to face her and only found herself shaken with worry when her eyes settled upon the tears running down her cheeks in a fluid rush. "What did you do to her?" Her eyes shot to the woman in accusation, her gaze hard and cold enough to unnerve the old woman free of her happy mood.

She glanced up at Catelyn with a deep sigh, pointing her cane towards Catelyn's Tully pin. "I told her the truth is all, river lady."

Having heard enough of her foul mouth, Catelyn pulled Eliana to her feet and held her hands securely. "Lia?" She questioned softly, her voice calm and motherly as she stared into her daughter's traumatized eyes.

The woman, however, pulled upon Eliana's cloak and drew her attention away from Catelyn. "Eliana Stark, your crown is strong and sturdy... make the realm see." With a shaky hand, the woman began to waddle away as if her cane was about to fly out beneath her and send her falling, leaning upon it with most of her weight while she gradually got further and further away.

Catelyn watched until the woman had disappeared from view before she turned to question Eliana again. "Lia..." She wiped her cheeks dry, her hands scorching against her daughter's frozen cheeks. "What did she say to you?" She wished she'd trust in her, believe in her enough to confide in her when times were hard, to allow her share of her burden.

Her eyes meeting her mother's once more, Eliana sucked in a breath to compose herself. "What has happened..." She muttered loud enough for Catelyn to hear as they ascended the steps once more, but hopefully they would reach the Sept. She confessed herself troubled by the encounter of the strange woman but she felt insightful of their conversation, having found knowledge that she was seeing things for a reason.

Catelyn's eyes zeroed in on Eliana, laced with confusion and concern, creating conflict between the emotions. "What does that even mean?"

"And what is to come..." She added absently, her foot almost missing the steps when she felt her mother pull her along uncomfortably with a forceful tug that made her wince, she'd forgotten that not long ago she was stretched beyond the norm.

Catelyn clutched Eliana's arm as they finally walked through the doors to the Sept, frowns on both their faces, though Catelyn's seemed to darken when her daughter continued with her mindless riddles. "As you know I am fond of puzzles, but I am not in the mood for any today. What did she tell you, Lia?" Catelyn was pleading with her, desperately wanting to know what had occurred to spook her daughter in such a way.

"She told me of things I'd seen, she told me I saved your life for if I had not you would have been thrown into the Trident." Eliana explained dryly, hearing her mother's breathing hitch. "And she told me of Robb."

"And you believed her?"

She shook her head, "At first I didn't, Mother but it was when she sang my song to me that I felt myself believing the words leaving her mouth... I told no one of the song, the only one who knew of it was Robb and he is dead. How did she know such a song I only sang once?"

Catelyn still looked unsure.

"Bran and Rickon are alive...  _The pups_ ,  _the trees whispered to me one night, they told me the Kraken was thick and sloppy... he let them go and knew nothing of it. They are lost in the snow with the scaled lions, travelling with the half-wit._ " She recalled, watching tears swim into her mother's eyes at the mention of her two boys. "They're travelling beyond the Wall with the Reeds and Hodor." When she finished speaking, her mother's leg gave way and she was sinking to the floor.

Catching her in her arms, Eliana also sank down with her mother as she began to sob against her chest, her cries muffled while she wrapped her arms around her, hugging her tightly as if she would lose her again. Eliana didn't know if Catelyn believed or not but she hoped she did.

* * *

Her entrance startled Pycelle as Eliana barged into his quarters to see him slouching lazily in his chair that was lurking behind his desk. "Ah, my Lady Eliana..." He scuttled to his feet and struggled to bow in her presence. "What do I owe the pleasure of seeing you today?" He rasped with a shortness of breath.

Eliana smiled falsely, her eyes trained upon him as he shifted under her gaze. "Grand Maester, what is your occupation here?" She wondered, gliding around the room in interest, knowing he was watching her.

Clearing his throat, Pycelle clasped his hands together and tilted his head in question. "To heed the King's wishes, my lady and offer advise to those who need it." He informed curtly, moving around his desk.

Nodding, Eliana accepted his words though they were as pathetic as the man was himself.  _Grey sunken cunt_ , Jaime had described him and it had been as accurate as she expected it to be. "Then why do you feel the need to act such a pathetic ploy for those around you to believe you are a crippled old man who smells of cat piss, when you are not?" She smiled when his face fell at her words, at annoyance that she'd seen through his act of pretending to be something he was not.

Straightening his back, Pycelle narrowed his eyes at Eliana before he ventured forward. "And what can I do you for you, my lady?"

"You're a Maester and I'd assumed you'd know if a woman was pregnant, yes?" She assumed, raising an eyebrow as she regarded him in a way she hoped would tempt him to near her, to venture deeper into her territory. But he didn't reply, and so she sighed in disappointment. "I'm sure Qyburn would be more than willing to check, Cersei recommended you personally." Eliana lied smoothly enough to fool him perfectly, making him putty in her hands.

"Would you like me to do a urine test?"

"Would you advise it?" Little did the Maester know, outside Irraro waited in the shadows after having followed Eliana into the room. He was there for one reason; he was conniving and sly, able to slither through the shadows and go unnoticed. He was there to collect the Strangler while Eliana distracted Pycelle.  _Deep purple crystals, a deep red liquid the colour of blood..._ she had told him and she was certain he wouldn't fail her.

Nearing her, Pycelle smiled a smile that made Eliana cringe at what she was about to do, and she knew she would soak herself in hot water to rid him off of her body. "Have there been any evident changes in your body... physically?" He pressed, his eyes falling upon her body and wandering silently.

"Well, my breasts feel sensitive and swollen." She took his hand in hers and placed it upon her breast, knowing it would hold the attention of the dirty old man, having heard about his frequent requests of the whores from Littlefinger's brothel. She swore she felt him squeeze, or at least squeeze a little harder than she would've liked.

His hand lingered longer than necessary, though it was all Irraro needed to gain access to his stores and begin his search. " _Oh, yes..._ " He chuckled to himself, his eyes flying to hers and soon he had left her body, collecting himself moderately. "Yes, they are indeed." He nodded in agreement, touching his beard thoughtfully but she soon took his hand again.

Eliana watched as Irraro picked through his stores and frowned when he picked up vials to inspect their contents. "And my stomach feels as though it has rounded slightly, don't you agree?" She inquired hastily, taking his other hand so his back was to Irraro.

Raising his hands as a signal, Irraro nodded and altered her to the two small vials in his hand, and thankfully telling her she could save herself as he'd found what they were looking for.

" _Oh well_  Maester..." Eliana breathed, dropping his hands to her relief and Pycelle's disappointment. "Surely in a moon's time I will show if I am pregnant, and if not Oberyn and I will try again." Her declaration seemed to draw the Maester out from his trance of being played the fool, allowing him to return to his usual deceitful self.

"But- "

Eliana ignored Pycelle as she watched Irraro flee the room from the corner of her eyes. "Thank you for your help, Maester." She acknowledged, striding through the door to leave the Maester to gather himself after his sudden affliction her actions had caused him.

* * *

She was certain.

During their walk the waves of nausea took their toll, and she knew that was a sign, paired with that she'd noticed her breasts had grown fuller and more tender to the touch... the signs were all there. She'd known, for days she'd known but now she finally allowed herself to believe in the possibility.

Glancing at Oberyn, she smiled when she saw him wearing the same pleasant and soft smile that she loved, the gentle regal he held over himself... making him look so majestic and free which only attracted her all the more. "You are staring, I know I am an attractive man... you have no need to remind me." The statement made her smile widen, and soon she found his eyes traced her face, soft and warm, burning bright.

Leaning towards her, he lips claimed hers in a sweet, chaste kiss, lingering for only a moment before he was pulling away so he could lay his eyes fully upon her. Refusing to lose herself in the kiss, Eliana cleared her throat. "I have something you need to know."

"Is something wrong?" His face fell in concern.

Shaking her head, she looked up at him with a smile. "Nothing's wrong." She assure, seeing his brow deepened as the concern withered his heart, weighing heavy upon him as he looked at her questioningly but she said no more and instead brought his hand to rest upon her stomach, holding it there. He stared for a moment and she saw the realisation dawn on him and she nodded her in confirmation of his silent question.

"Are you certain?"

She laughed, "As certain as I can be." She replied as she saw a smile that stretched so wide she thought his face might crack under its strain.

He pressed his hand tightly against her stomach, grinning still, and like a mad man. Oberyn leaned forward to capture her lips again.

The thought that crossed her mind next, rocked her thoughts violently enough to make her heart drop in her chest… if her baby was a girl Oberyn might be disappointed, having four already he would possibly be disheartened by another. It was a question she could bring herself to ask. But in her heart she cared not, she would love the babe not matter its gender.

She could feel his lips against her forehead, warmth coursing through her body as he pressed a kiss tenderly. "I shall have your mother and sister dine with us this evening, we can tell- "

Interrupting him, Eliana shook her head softly. "We don't have to tell them straight away, Oberyn.." She admitted she didn't know how to tell her mother such a thing, and how would she react to hearing her daughter was with her grandchild?

She didn't even know how far gone she was… is had to be two moons, possibly three – or not, if she hadn't bled for three moons she would have noticed such a thing.

"Why keep this a secret? I want the entire world to know you are carrying me child!" He proclaimed adorably, his smile growing ever wider which seemed near impossible.

"Shh." She clamped her hand across his mouth to stop him alerting the gardens of her current state of health, knowing the bushes had both eyes and ears.

Chuckling, Oberyn relented and took her arm in his and pulled her along with him contently. "He will be strong like his mother, and he will have my skill in combat and my looks." He hummed thoughtfully, sending her a cheeky grin.

Eliana's brow furrowed, "And what if  _he_  is a  _she_?" Her voice had grown weary as she stared ahead, not able to meet his eyes, not wanting to see the look they held.

" _She_  will be strong like  _her_  mother, and  _she_  will have my skill in combat and my looks."

Sighing a sigh of relief, Eliana nodded sufficiently as her eyes spotted Varys scuttling about, his hands probably deep in webs of secrets. "I'm going to need a bigger gown for Maegaery's wedding." Her voice sounded frustrated. She was content with the gown she'd found, it complimented all her Houses: Stark, Tully, and Martell.

"You look wondrous in whatever you wear, my love, gowns or  _nothing_ …" Oberyn trailed off with that glint in his eye that never failed to unnerve her, yet, she loved the sensation that surged through her body. "You don't hear me complain."

Lacing their hands together, she pressed her head against his shoulder and smiled. "Shut up." She laughed, though it dissolved when her eyes saw Varys coming their way.

"Ah, Lord Varys." Oberyn announced, as the spider bowed her head in their direction respectively, his hands clasped together as they usually were. "And why have we been blessed with your presence on this lovely day?"

"I have news, concerning Joffrey." He whispered, leaning towards the both of them before speaking in a hushed tone. He glanced around to make sure no spies were listening in on their conversation, knowing what he was about to say would be hazardous if it fell into the wrong hands.

Neither spoke, but their brows deepened in intrigue.

"He's planning something… "  _revenge possibly?_ Varys couldn't help but assume, though he kept the thought to himself.

Oberyn merely chuckled, "The wedding?"

"No. They haven't decided yet…" Varys affirmed, his face growing somewhat dark as his eyes stilled upon Eliana, knowing she had a hand in Olenna's plans. "Olenna Redwyne is refusing to pay her half because she's waiting on someone?"

Oberyn turned his gaze on Eliana, raising a brow questioningly when he saw the look Varys had sent his wife.

"She's waiting on me."

"And why would she do that?" He pressed lightly, knowing there was more to what he'd just discovered, knowing his wife had constructed a plan with Olenna unknowingly to the Lannisters... and everyone else, too.

"Because we have a plan…" Eliana vowed, a small smile playing upon her lips as she thought of their plan to crush the Lannisters and take care off Joffrey. "That suits the needs of both of us."

However Oberyn still persisted, not knowing he'd missed all this and it had been orchestrated beneath his very nose. "And since when were you and Olenna acquaintances?" He confessed he felt slightly betrayed that she had confided in him to tell him of her plan, he felt as though she didn't trust him enough to ensure him with such restriction of news that only two people knew of.

"Since our loved ones are in danger, we have cause for concern."

Varys stepped forward, his head glowing under the harsh beam of the sun, bouncing off in all directions to stun Eliana as she tried to look at the eunuch. "And how do you plan to deal with him?" He prompted with interest at having found something he knew little of.

* * *

Curled against her chest, Eliana smiled as Shadow pressed himself into her, his muzzle touching her cheek affectionately. Losing her hands in his fur, she was, for the first time, able to feel at ease since leaving Winterfell to venture South... Shadow reminded her of Winterfell, he reminded her of home... he even smelt of the Wolfswood.

Sighing, Shadow collapsed against her, filling her body with warmth and making her shiver at the sensation while Oberyn paced ferociously, unable to control himself from the news that had barely settled into his mind. Since when had Eliana changed and become such a vengeful person? So full of hate and so little love? She wasn't the same, that much he knew but he didn't want to lost her to the darkness entirely.

He wouldn't lose her.

"You cannot be serious, Lia, since when would you of all people resort to poison when trying to get back at others?" He was rambling, which was unusual for the Red Viper who always appeared to be so calm and collected to those around him.

But Eliana simply smiled at his words, shrugging plainly as she stroked Shadow's fur, loving the feel beneath her fingers. "They always said it was a woman's weapon." She let out, her hands disappearing in the black furs wrapped around her as she sat on the floor.

Sighing deeply, Oberyn bit the inside of his cheek in agitation. "And how do you plan to do such things?"

"A woman approached me this morning… she'd foreseen it, so it has to happen." Eliana announced, knowing that he would only disagree with her, and he had the audacity to criticize her for turning to poisons when he always laced his spear with them. "The songs plays and the doves fly…  _I've seen it_ , Oberyn."

"Now you believe superstitious nonsense?" He let out a breathless laugh, downing the cup of wine on the table beside him in one gulp.

Rolling her eyes, she went to speak. "Oberyn- "

But Oberyn wouldn't hear of it, he needed her to listen to the seriousness of her plan, of what would happen if she were found out. She would die, but she would have her vengeance. "It's regicide, Lia."

"You have to- " She tried, but failed to finish.

"No!" He roared, his fury soaring through the fire within his veins. "I will not allow you to do something as stupendous as this!"

"She saw Robb die!" When she shouted, Shadow jolted upwards in warning as he turned his attention to Oberyn, deciding whether to bear his teeth to tell the Dornishman to back off and leave his mistress but her hand at his neck forbade him to do so. "She told me of my father's death, and my brother's death. She saw my brother die, and I sung the song she had heard, a song no one heard apart from Robb and I. She came all that way to tell me."

Oberyn didn't seem convinced.

"You will have your vengeance and I will have mine."

"And what did she say about your most recent plan?" He requested, folding his arms across his chest, finding himself concerned that his wife had listened to such nonsense.

"A maid at a feast with purple serpents in her hair, fresh venom lacing their fangs." Reaching up her sleeve, she pulled out a small vial and smiled when she saw her husband's face drop in astonishment when his eyes clapped on the deep purple crystals that rattled in the glass.

His black eyes widened at the sight, his heart stopping while his blood ran cold. "The Strangler." Oberyn noted, his mind wondering when she'd become such a bloodthirsty woman instead of the winter rose that had tangled around him and made him love her. That women didn't resort to poisons.

Eliana nodded, her smile only growing. " _The Strangler_." She confirmed swiftly.


	44. Always

He had tried to appear at least happy for her when the news had finally reached his ears that she was with child, honestly he had but he couldn't bring himself to think of her having another man's child. Jaime knew he shouldn't think such things but he wished the snake had never been born, never wormed his way into her heart... then perhaps, he'd have a chance but now his chances were growing dimmer by the day.

Each time he saw her, the bump had grown in size - though she didn't appear to be as swollen as Cersei had been when she had carried Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen which led him to believe the child would be small and probably difficult to birth. He felt horrid, he couldn't even bear to stand in her presence, knowing his expression would only betray him to alert her to his true feelings.

The thought of her having Oberyn's child had begun to haunt him through the night to the point where he couldn't stop thinking about her, where she would infect his mind and drown him in heartache as his mind kept running back to Harrenhal, in the bathouse when he'd walked in and found her there already, naked and glorious. She'd been hostile towards him when he joined her in the scorching heat of the water, ducking beneath the water to prevent him from seeing what had lurked beneath all her tunics and armour.

At least Catelyn understood his pain having lost the one she loved... but not to another, despite her own joy at her daughter's news, she'd consoled him when he discovered the news which Jaime had been grateful for... but did she mean any of it? She seemed to warm to Oberyn enough, liking the warm side he brought out in her daughter but Jaime believed she didn't dislike like him as she liked everyone to believe she did.

As well as Catelyn, Oberyn had also paid him a visit, issuing him with a warning to keep away from his wife but despite how much he had tried, Jaime couldn't do it... he couldn't breathe without seeing her. He couldn't function without knowing she was alive and healthy.

Jaime hadn't thought about what would happen if the Viper knew what he was doing, firmly deciding to venture to Eliana's chambers, to see her and hear her voice, to see for himself at what he'd been told... to just look at her. Pushing the hefty door open with a fumbling struggle, Jaime peered around the supple wood to cast his gaze into the room, seeing the sun glittering and dancing through the drapes and his lady nowhere to be seen. "Lia?"

He frowned when no reply reached his ears but his lips turned upwards when his eyes landed upon the beast who let a snarl ripple through the room to greet him as he prowled towards him, his eyes narrowed in suspicion at the lion who had disturbed the serenity in his lair.

Knowing the only thing to do, he held his hand out towards the beast once he closed the door, watching in anticipation as the direwolf edged closer to his hand as it hovered in the air. He knew he recognised his scent, and soon he was satisfied he was not danger to his mistress, allowing his hostile stance to dissolve.

Jaime smiled and scratched behind his ear, losing his hand in his dark fur, jolting when her voice sounded suddenly. "You're brave..." Smiling even more, Jaime cast his gaze upwards and soon found her wrapped in a maternity robe, her hands sat upon her swollen stomach with a soft look lurking in the depths of her eyes. "If Oberyn catches you here he will gut you living."

Shrugging though he wanted to shudder at her words, Jaime turned to face her with a smirk of arrogance. "I don't care." He answered, moving forwards as he struggled to keep his eyes trained upon her face when they wanted nothing more than to fall upon where her hands cradled. "I had to see you."

"You had to see for yourself you mean." Eliana re-phrased with a heavy heart, a frown drifting across her face to tarnish her soft look. "You haven't come to see me in months, you've been avoiding me and now you'd risk that to see me? Oberyn's threats are not to be tested, he means them and I don't want to see you get hurt." She knew how it sounded, but she had missed speaking with him, she'd even go as far to admit she missed his arrogance, that smirk.

Pulling out a chair, Eliana gestured for Jaime to sit down rather than stand. "How are you?" He wondered with slight concern, sinking into the seat beside her as she moved to grab the pitcher of wine to pour him a drink. "No, thank you." He reached for her hand, and held it in his own, his calloused fingers tracing circles over her soft skin.

She let out a soft laugh but soon found herself sighing in thought. She had never thought carrying a child would be so much work, let alone so exhausting that she felt hopeless most of the time which did nothing to brighten her mood. "The usual I suppose... exhausted and aching?" She tilted her head in his direction, not knowing what else to say.

"My apologies, a stupid question to ask."

Eliana shook her head, "No, it's a change from all the compliments I have received, a well-awaited one." She informed him with a bright smile, her eyes shining brilliantly in the sun's reflective rays. "And how are you?" Eliana pressed out of worry, her eyes tracing over the stubble that had sprouted upon his jaw, growing the length where a beard would soon begin to grow.

Jaime glanced away briefly. "I'm fine, Lia."

She didn't believe him, not by the words but by him not looking at her, not able to meet her gaze as the words left his mouth. "Honestly?" She moved her fingers in his hand, drawing his attention back to her.

Unable to keep it locked away safely in his mind, Jaime soon found himself blurting out things he never wished for her to bear witness to. "I wish nothing more than to know it was my child you were carrying, that it was me you had married, that it was me that you loved with all the passion you hold for him." He had never felt so egotistical and self-centered, knowing that wasn't fair at all on her behalf. "You know I'm in love with you, I fell for you the moment I met you... I just never realised it and now it's too late."

And then he was reaching forward, his fingers trailing along her ruined cheek; the ill-favoured scars of her old wound that had graced her cheek in a tender caress, she took that for him... she allow Hoat to inflict pain upon her to save him and save him she did.

"What are you doing?" She asked in a feeble whisper, her eyes glued on him when she felt his fingers ghost over her lips and along her jaw.

He continued to cradle her face in his searing palm; he moved his fingers to lurk beneath her chin, lifting her face upwards to meets his and soon he was leaning even closer, and with a turn of his head, his lips were on hers. It wasn't a kiss she'd encountered before, it wasn't chaste and neither was it needful... his lips trembled as pressed lightly and as soon as he had started, he finished it.

It was grief ridden, full of sorrow and heartache... because of Oberyn and because of her and knowing he was in pain because of her doing, made her feel foul and abominable.

He rose to his feet and brought her hands to his lips, pressing lightly enough to send shivers down her spine, to warm her reluctantly. "My wasted heart shall love you, even if you don't love me."

Without sparing her another glance, Jaime fled hastily from the room and the door slammed closed behind him. But instead of going anywhere, he lent against the door and drew in a deep breath while his chest heaved to his dread. "You must stop this." He commanded himself, squeezing his eyes tightly shut as if to make the thoughts buzzing around his head disappear. "Enough... please,  _enough now_."

Shaking himself out of his drunken state, Jaime pushed himself off the door and started forwards and hoped, _hoped_ , to leave his fatuous thoughts concerning his infatuation for Eliana Stark behind but not all prayers were always answered.

Inside the room, Eliana glanced over at Shadow who was watching the door curiously, his head tilted in question at Jaime's sudden fleeing. "It's my fault." Eliana patted her leg and his bounded over like the pup his once was to sit himself before her. She sighed and pressed a kiss to his head, standing to unlace her robe as she turned to face the steaming bath, walking towards it.

The cold air hit her skin as she moved to lower herself into the water. It burned her skin as she broke the surface, it was almost too much for her to bear however, Eliana made herself dip in further. The steam of the scalding water blurred her vision, infecting her mind subtly as she laid in the tub guarded by Shadow. As the air grew heavier, she knew she should've found it harder and harder to breathe but she didn't... if anything she found it soothing, it felt like her room in Winterfell that seemed to thrive beneath the hot springs on the most wintry days. She let the water ripple across her sore body and aching bones as she moved to stretch her arms above her head, relishing in the feeling after having carried her child for what... six moons? And the signs of pregnancy were beginning to show, mental exhaustion outweighing the physical exhaustion, endless questions of how she was feeling, if she had any names... the same questions but they never failed to bring a smile to her face.

At the mere thought of names, her hands settled upon her stomach while a smile stretched across her lips fondly as the water tickled her skin. "Everyone is adamant you're a boy... now, will you be Audric or perhaps Arthur?" She wondered softly, laughing when she felt a kick erupt from her stomach. "Torrhen's a strong name, all northern names are strong... but you may look like your father. Zander sounds fitting as well, don't you think? Then there's Lucion, Stefon, Lucan... Aeron, and Aden. Benedict and- "

"Or Oberyn."

Eliana paused, her eyes meeting his, smiling when she saw him shrugging off his robe to let it drop to the floor before moving to rid himself of the rest of his clothes, ready to join her in the tub. "I am not naming him after you." Eliana jested, moving forward as Oberyn slipped down behind her in the water, soon moving to pull her back against his chest comfortably, his arms caressing her stomach when they had snaked around her front.

Oberyn ignored her snide comment, and instead opted to press kisses along the nape of her neck as he felt her curl up against him, her body angled just right so her head could rest upon his shoulder. "The hot water should work wonders on your muscles," He muttered into her neck, pulling away when she moved her head to meet his eyes.

"You don't have to tell me." The heat put her at ease, and she found her eyelids had grown suddenly heavy, threatening to shut at any moment. It was only Oberyn - along with the short hairs of his beard tickling her ear and neck- that kept her from closing them entirely.

"Are you still mad at me?" He wondered, his lips ghosting over her temple.

"I'm always mad at you."

She had no desire to argue with him about her desire to kill Joffrey, hoping that her light, dismissive retorts would be enough to quiet him but when he forehead rests lightly against her hair, she knew he wouldn't drop it.

"I apologise, my love... for shouting at you the way I did." He whispered tiredly, it was true - they had been arguing a lot as of late, unable to agree on her plan of regicide - and most of the time, Oberyn had retreated by storming off. in order to allow himself to calm down.

Her fingers curled through his hair as he let out a hum in reply. "A Frey, Oberyn... a  _Frey_  sits where a  _Tully_  should... and the Lannisters," She started, losing her voice as her emotions betrayed her to where her voice had trembled slightly as she spoke which only seemed to unnerve her even more. "The Lannisters have ruined and scattered my family."

He could feel her sudden anger radiating from her, ferociously contending with the heat of the water they lounged in to scold him soundlessly. "Hush now my love, we will both have our vengeance." Oberyn comforted, pulling her tighter against him if that was even possible, not wanting to let her go.

* * *

The days crept by, getting hotter and hotter which began to make Eliana wilt from the strenuous heat. She couldn't abide with heat, she would rather throw herself into a heap of snow than wither away in the heat of King's Landing. She looked up when she felt the bed shift behind her and then a familiar bronze hand fell upon the bump as he lay down. "You should sleep." Oberyn whispered as he proceeded to thread his fingers through her auburn hair, his fingernails gently pawing against her scalp.

Eliana's eyes slowly closed as he massaged her scalp. "Hmm, it's too hot to sleep." She replied, feeling him take her thighs in hand to pull her flush against him until she was sat on his lap. Gently, he massaged her muscles, enjoying the smoothness of her skin beneath his fingertips. She placed her hands on his chest to stabilize herself against him, smiling brightly before leaning down to kiss him gently, her hands sliding up so she could cup his face.

Smiling against her lips, Oberyn pecked them briefly as he continued to caressed her thighs. "Then we will have to find other distractions to pass the time, Lia." Oberyn grinned widely.

Eliana hummed against his lips, "Of course, do you have something in mind?" She pressed before he pulled her down to kiss her fully on the lips, his tongue sliding into her mouth, making her groan.

With ease, his hands slipped beneath her gown to run along her skin as he peppered kisses along her jaw. "I love you." His words were firm and true as he watched her, dragging his hands along her legs, loving the sight of her on top of him, adoring the contrast between her snowy skin and his bronze skin was more arousing than he cared to admit.

She began to pull at his laces, tugging at them as he lifted his hips willingly, bringing one hand to cup her face as he moved forward to kiss her when the door opened. Oberyn sighed loudly, throwing his head in the direction of the door, prepared to shout at whoever had interrupted them but he paled when he saw that it was Catelyn who had entered.

Standing at the door, her gaze averted once she'd seen what they had been doing, Catelyn knew she'd intruded once again. "I apologise!" Catelyn exclaimed, turning her back as she moved to remove herself from the room.

"Mother, wait!" Eliana climbed off of Oberyn's lap quickly, adjusting her gown as she turned to face her mother just as Oberyn also adjusted himself while wearing a sheepish look of utter panic at his wife's mother walking in on them nearly in the art of love making.

Oberyn pulled on his golden robe, and reached for his boots before looking over at Catelyn in question. "Catelyn I don't suppose you happen to know where Obara is?" He wondered, wanting to lead them all away from the embarrassment.

She nodded, noting how he was refusing to meet her eye. "She's sparring with Markas in the gardens, Oberyn - she's asking for the both of you." She watched when Oberyn kissed her daughter, his hand upon her stomach where their child lay, a smile forming across her lips at the sight.

"My Lady." He spoke, striding past her to exit the room swiftly.

When Oberyn was gone, Catelyn looked to Eliana, the regret evident on her face as she let out a deep sigh. "That's the second time I've done that, I'm so terribly sorry." She rushed out, irritated with herself that she kept ruining it for them.

Eliana laughed, shaking her head at her words. "It's fine, Mother... it appears my husband is terrified of you." She reassured Catelyn lightly, smiling as Shadow bolted to greet her mother. "What did you want?" She sunk into a seat, looking up at her mother.

Smoothing the dark fluff of his fur on his head, Catelyn walked to where Eliana had seated herself. "Varys approached me today." Catelyn stated, allowing her eyes to settle on her daughter's rounded stomach.

Eliana's intrigue sparked at her words, knowing Varys only spoke of things that were true or what he'd been told by his little birds. "And what did he have to say... something interesting and unknown to most, I suppose." She concluded absently, recalling that she found herself oddly fond of the plump man.

"You were right about what you had said." But Eliana only frowned at her words and she knew she had to elaborate on what she meant. "... About Bran and Rickon, his little birds in the North whisper of their survival." However, despite being able to speak without letting her emotions betray her, Catelyn was soon sobbing.

Wincing, Eliana reached forward to grasp her mother's hand. "Mother, no crying..." She wiped away her tears, wanting her to stay strong like the woman she knew she was. "Don't cry, they're safe with the Reeds."

But Catelyn couldn't stop her tears or the agony that ached her heart at knowing her two little boys were alive and all alone. "After all this time and they're still alive. I thought- I thought..." She couldn't finish as she was sobbing to the point where she couldn't speak.

"Robb believed as did I." She comforted, smiling at her as she hoped her words would soothe her mother. "We Starks are kill, but those they do kill, they have to endure our wrath." She paused briefly, watching her mother sniffle and nod as she rid her face of the fresh tears. "Do you trust me?"

" _Always_."

Eliana smiled at her reply, "I saw his death in my dreams..."

 _Joffrey?_  "Why are you telling me?" Catelyn inquired, wondering why her daughter would tell anyone of her plan to kill the King... she knew she had planned to do something to Joffrey but she didn't know she planned to go as far and kill himself with the backing of Olenna Redwyne.

She shrugged and looked down, her smile growing. "Because it will be known as the Purple Wedding and it is where the Starks will have their vengeance." The excitement had laced her words as she spoke, jolting when she felt a kiss down below that made her surge forward at the sensation of being kick in the gut from the inside.

"Is he moving?" Catelyn pressed as Eliana drew her hand so it fell on her side. She sat there quietly to only let out a beam of happiness when she felt her grandchild kick her hand that was pressed against his mother's stomach. "He's a lively one... just like you were, endless kicking and punching day and night." Catelyn remember, her smile growing sad at she recalled the past. "You used to inflict the womb wars upon your father while he slept."

She felt her eyes sting at the mention of her father, the pain still raw despite how long ago he had been taken from them. "I want you to be there, promise me you'll be there..." Eliana pleaded, her voice growing serious and frightened, clearly showing she didn't want to be alone when the time came. She wanted her mother, just like her mother had wanted her.

* * *

It was still snowing when her labour pains began early in the morning. Watching her run through the snow as the snow glittered around her, Catelyn laughed when she saw her daughter's small fingers reaching to catch the snowflakes that danced from the sky to greet her, her smile widening when she saw the disappointment appear once the snowflakes began to melt in the palms of her hands. However, her missions at gathering snowflakes vanished when she heard her brother's calling her.

" _Lia!_ " Robb exclaimed as he tottered over to her, tugging a solemn looking Jon along with him while her mother and father sat watching them, smiling at the children's interactions with one another, despite Catelyn's faltering at the sight of Jon Snow, her husband's bastard.

" _Robb! Jon!_ " Eliana grinned, as she hugged them both to her chest, both squirming in discomfort at the gesture, wriggling to be free. Sighing, the little wolf let them go and took their small hands into her own before she lead them to where their parents stood.

As soon as her eyes met her daughter's, Catelyn extended her hand for her to take it and as they approached, Eliana let Robb's hand drop to grasp it tightly within her own, mindful of the bulbous bump at her mother's stomach.

She refused to let go of Jon though. Since discovering her mother's coldness towards Jon which left him questioning if anyone loved him, Eliana would always keep the hand securely locked with his, not willing enough to let him be cast aside. Despite her youth, she was clever than her years and being observant seemed to grace her upon her seventh nameday.

Eliana had promised her father she would include Jon, that she would make him belong.

Taking her mother's hand, Eliana smiled warmly up at her, her eyes gluing to her same reflective pair. Catelyn adored her daughter's Tully side, the auburn hair and blue eyes that mirrored Robb's and her own, that was what she loved most about having Eliana for a daughter... but she was her father's daughter, she was a tough little mite, however, that didn't stop her creeping into their rooms some nights and Catelyn would awake to find her wrapped up in her father's arms.

Eliana's smile fell when Catelyn let out a sharp hissing sound of pain. " _Mother, is something the matter?_ "

" _It's the babe, Ned._ "

That was Ned needed to hear and he was carrying Catleyn to her birthing chamber, leaving the children behind but Eliana was hot on his tail, leaving her brothers with her Septa to catch up with them. Her mother had promised her she could be with her when the babe was born, she hadn't been allowed with Robb because she was too young - they had made her wait with her grandfather. But nothing was going to stop her from being there to hold her mother and be the first to see her new brother or sister.

Entering the chamber, Eliana had pushed past all the maids and Maester Luwin to reach her mother's side. Instead of seating herself upon the bed, she settled by her side and took her hand in her own, squeezing reassuringly.

Tears had filled her mother's eyes when her daughter took her hands into her own silently, gripping it fiercely yet gently, showing she was there was for her mother, that would be her rock through the pain that would shake her body soon enough and for that Catelyn thanked the Mother for her kindness.

" _Lady Eliana, this is no place for you to be... perhaps you should waited outside with your father?_ " Maester Luwin suggested lightly, but Eliana didn't take her eyes off of her mother for a single moment.

" _I will not be moved._ " Eliana declared, which only made Luwin chuckle at how alike she and her father were. One moment she could adopt Catelyn's characteristics, and the next she was a miniature Ned Stark in the making.

" _Very well, my Lady_."

Catelyn smiled at her daughter, her eyes glistening dangerously as tears threatened to fall.

" _I won't leave you, Mother, I promise._ " She pressed her lips to her hand, holding her mother through the pain, sharing the burden.

" _It will not be long now, my lady_ ," Maester Luwin informed her gently, and he prepared the swaddling cloth to catch the babe when he or she arrived into the world but would the labour be swift?

Hours went by before Catelyn began to push after confronting her labour pains, and Eliana didn't leave her side once. Instead, she sat beside her and wiped her head every time sweat had gathered upon the skin, offering soft words that she thought would help ease her mother's pain. Her being there was soothing her mother through her pain, which Maester Luwin didn't fail to notice, appearing to be more relaxed that when she had birthed both Eliana and Robb.

" _Nearly there,_ " Maester Luwin soothed.

After a well-awaited delay, soon enough the cries of a newborn filled the room, and Eliana found herself grinning at the sound, ridding her mother's forehead of newly formed sweat.

" _Gods be good_ ," The Maester announced, as he swaddles the babe. " _A healthy girl, my Lady._ " Turning to Eliana, he smiled softly.  _"Would you like to hold her, Lia?_ " Luwin asked as she nodded her head eagerly, holding out her arms the way her grandfather had taught her when she first held Robb. Eliana stared wide-eyed at the tiny babe lying in her arms, the beautiful babe lying in her arms, in awe just as she had been with Robb and Jon.

Smiling widely, she turned to look back at her mother who had been joined by her father and soon she wandered over to them, her eyes glued to the babe in her arms with auburn hair and blue eyes. " _No harm will ever come to you, I promise... it's my sworn duty to protect you as you're older sister. I swear it by the Old Gods... and the New._ " Eliana whispered to the babe, smiling even more when she began to wriggle. " _How about Sansa?_ " She called out.

Ned smiled, holding out his arm for them to join him. " _That's a fine name, little wolf._ " Ned agreed, as he reached for the babe and Eliana willingly handed her over to him with extra care, pressing a kiss to her father's cheek before she joined her mother lying in the bed.

" _I agree, Sweetling._ " Catelyn pressed a kiss to her forehead before her husband passed the babe into her arms. Gently, Catelyn stroked Sansa's cheek, soft like the petals of flowers she used to pick as a girl.

" _She's perfect._ "

Ned kissed Eliana's head, pulling her onto his lap as they stared at the newest addition to their family. " _She is beautiful,_ " He added, his vow low as to not disturb the baby's slumber. Her little face scrunched up, as if Sansa would start to cry, but instead she merely yawned and settled back down upon her mother's chest. "And thankfully, not a screamer."

Robb had screamed for hours when he had been born, Eliana had fought her way into the world without the screaming but with her eyes wide-open and alert to her surroundings.

" _Sansa Stark._ "

* * *

Catelyn gripped her daughter's hand within her own. "I won't leave you, I promise." She recited, as her smile intensified at the memory, honoured that her daughter wanted her at the birth of her child.

"We're still nameless." Eliana let out in defeat, annoyed that they were still unable to agree.

"Oh, Lia..."

* * *

"I want her dead."

Tywin chuckled at his daughter's words, bringing his wine to his lips as he drank deeply. "Of course you do, you're a woman." He seated himself in his chair, turning his back on the sun as it glittered through the room to blind him.

Cersei scoffed, prowling around his chambers with her own wine sat in her hand. "And you don't?" She hissed, bearing her teeth in his direction as Tywin merely raised his eyebrows.

"I quite enjoy her actually... she speaks a lot more sense than you do, than anyone does really." Tywin explained to Cersei's dismay, knowing that his words would only infuriate his daughter more than she already was. He did enjoy what Eliana had to say, he found her interesting, more interesting than her father and her grandfather had ever been. "How has she wronged you?" He wondered in intrigue, tilting his head at her.

"By- "

"By breathing?" Tywin interrupted with a hollow laugh, knowing she was jealous that Eliana Stark had power she didn't need to fight for. "As I recall Eliana Stark hasn't inflicted anything upon you, and instead, I think it's the other way around... either that or you're jealous."

Cersei, however, had other plans. If she could harm the bitch that had stolen her brother from her, then perhaps she could have someone done to the child... "I'll have the child killed then." She suggested, taking a gulp of her wine.

Tywin didn't look convinced by her threat, knowing that his daughter wouldn't have the stomach to do such a thing, especially to a child. "And what would possess you to do such a horrid, being a mother yourself?"

"She needs to know her place." Cersei roared in annoyance and barely managing to keep her fury at bay, sick of the Stark bitch getting in the way of everything that made her life perfect. Slamming her glass down upon his desk, Cersei glowered at her father. "She needs to know where she belongs."  _In the kennels with the hounds._

"Oh, she knows her place very well, unlike you." Tywin concluded with a sharp look, not looking at all influenced by her words let alone her actions. "If that was your attempt at trying to convince me to aid you in murdering a child, then you're more feeble than I thought."

Cersei's face twisted in distaste before she found herself striding towards the door, not sparing the man another look as she swiftly excused herself, her mind trailing to how she would deal with Eliana Stark. Knowing her father wouldn't help her, she would have to be discreet... she wanted Bran dead before, perhaps this time she could execute it without fail.


	45. The Lion and the Rose

Weddings bored her thanks to Sansa's never ending talk about the event; the bride's ivory dress, the groom, the food… but today, her sister spoke nothing of the delights that came with a wedding. But the answer to that was quite plain; it was Joffrey's wedding.

Soon the golden haired shit would be married to a Tyrell and soon enough he would be lying purple-faced upon the floor, choking on the Pigeon pie… or his wine.

Why she had been invited to the Royal Breakfast was beyond her knowledge, she didn't even wish to attend to it… the feast later on would be enough for Eliana but then her mother had ranted about how Joffrey would act during the feast if they didn't turn up.

She pitied her sister when she saw her sitting silently beside Tyrion at the head table, but she knew that the Imp would inflict no cruelty upon her, he wasn't like his kin, which was a huge relief off her shoulders.

Tywin had smiled when she caught his eye from where he sat at the table with his daughter sat stiffly beside him, merely picking at her food. He nodded, raising his glass in her direction, unnerving her somewhat which only made his smile widen.

Turning away from him, Eliana looked to her mother who was in deep conversation with Oberyn as he poured some wine into her glass from the pitcher sat on their table. Thomos sat next to her, frowning when he saw the distant look upon her face. "Are you all right, my Princess?"

"Never better." She responded dryly, her eyes floating across the crowd to meet those of Jaime. Her gaze on lingered for a moment before she broke her stare and glanced away to smile at Thomos.

However, from where he stood on guard, Jaime continued to stare at her as he refused to let his gaze waver. Today she wore a deep azure gown with golden suns sparsely impregnating the gown while her hair sat in a northern braid -cascading down her back to hover just above her coccyx should be- held in place by a wolf pin that glittered in the sun's rays. She was stunning, and she knew she was despite how much she denied it.

Her scars did nothing to tarnish her beauty, if anything; they made her flourish even more. Her scars piqued the intrigue of others; they made her enigmatic and precarious to those who didn't have the joy of knowing her.

But precarious she was, and that jeopardy both terrified him and aroused him at the same time that left him conflicted on what he should feel.

He jumped back to reality when he met Oberyn's viper gaze, his black eyes glued to him as he stared at his wife. A viper's bite was not to be underestimated, neither joked about and only a fool would do such a thing, and Jaime wasn't a fool as some liked to believe.

Nodding at Oberyn, he averted his eyes and looked at the head table and already he felt the eyes of his sister on him, but he didn't meet them with his own.

Catelyn had witnessed the way Jaime had stared at her daughter along with Oberyn but not threat he had seen it as. Instead, she saw the soft look within his eyes as he watched her. His love was resilient and burned bright within him, and Catelyn feared that if Oberyn was to confront him of it, that would be the end of Jaime.

But she was interested to see if her daughter shared his feelings, shared the love he held for her… it was only a brief stutter but she watched Eliana meet his eyes and hold his stare until she glanced away.

She would ask her, later and she would find out the truth behind those looks they shared with one another.

Oberyn rose to his feet as he made his way towards the head table, smiling falsely at the boy King who peered up at him with anticipation, probably waiting to how much his gift was worth. "From my wife and I." Oberyn lowered the silk pouch onto the table as Joffrey grabbed at it like a spoilt child. "You may find this an inspiration for your future rule, words are stronger than swords... I have found not all men get their poisonous nature from their bite, Your Grace, some men are born with a poisonous sting."

Joffrey's brow deepened as he felt a chillness cover his hand as he retrieved what had been lurking in the pouch. Glittering brilliantly, the ruby eyes shone as they met the sun, clashing wonderfully with the golden flowing over the bones of the Scorpion's body. "A striking brooch. Thank you, Prince Oberyn... and your wife... Princess Eliana." Joffrey physically flinched when he met the harsh gaze of the She-Wolf lurking opposite him as he nodded to her.

Eliana smiled in amusement.

Mace Tyrell was a fat man, his belly round like that of a pig about to birth a litter of piglets, with a triangular beard that did nothing to disguise his oafish nature. From what Eliana had heard from her father and Olenna he was nothing to boast about,  _The Fat Flower_ , his mother had called him. The man was a blundering fool who lacked political savvy, and the only evidence of strategic brilliance residing within his fat head was the Battle of Ashford, in which Randyll Tarly had done all the work for him.

"From House Tyrell and the people of the Reach, Your Grace, it is my honor to present you with this wedding cup." The cup itself was rather ugly, but it appeared to be to suit the Lord's extravagant taste, seven-sided and decorated with seven great Houses: a ruby lion of Lannister, an emerald rose of Tyrell, the onyx stag of Baratheon, a silver trout of Tully, a jade blue falcon of Arryn, the opal sun of Martell, and a pearl direwolf of Stark. "May you and my daughter Margaery drink deep and live long."

"A handsome goblet, my lord." Joffrey nodded in appreciation. "Or shall I call you Father?"

Bowing, Mace began to stutter in shock at his request. "I shall be honored, Your Grace." He rushed out before scuttling back to his chair beside him.

Watching as a book was placed before him, Joffrey watched as his uncle strode to stand before him to present him with his gift. "A book?" He questioned as he rose an eyebrow at Tyrion.

" _The Lives of Four Kings_. Grand Maester Kaeth's history of the reigns of Daeron the Young Dragon, Baelor the Blessed, Aegon the Unworthy, and Daeron the Good. A book every king should read." Tyrion explained as a faint smile graced his lips, regarding the book with a certain fondness, having found the book clearly entertaining.

His eyes trailing to his grandfather, Joffrey nodded in understanding. "Now that the war is won, we should all find time for wisdom. Thank you, Uncle." Joffrey strained a smile just like his voice, clearly disappointed with the gift he'd been given.

From behind Tyrion, a Kingsguard came striding towards the table with a sheathed blade lying in his hands before he placed it before Joffrey on the table. Rising to his feet, Tywin cleared his throat. "One of only three Valyrian steel swords in the capital, Your Grace, freshly forged in your honour." He informed his grandson as he gawked up at him in excitement.

Despite knowing that a part of Ice was lying upon the table, Eliana couldn't help but thank Tywin for gracing her with one third of the steel.

Joffrey rushed to his feet, running around the table to withdraw the blade from it confinement, slashing and slicing it through the air to test its balance, grinning like the fool he was.

"Careful, Your Grace." Old Pycelle warned with a dry chuckle, "Nothing cuts like Valyrian steel."

"So they say." Joffrey stared it wonder before he brought the blade down upon the book that had been next to it, the blade cutting straight through it. Frantic and appearing insane, Joffrey continued to bring his blade down until the book was lying in tatters, hitting it with such a force that everyone sat on the table shrunk back in shock. "Such a great sword should have a name... what shall I call her?" He proclaimed to the crowd with a grin.

"Stormbringer!" One exclaimed.

"Terminus!" Another shouted from the back.

"Widow's Wail!" One cried out in hope to be heard.

"Wolfsbane!" Said one.

"Widow's Wail... I like that." He chuckled is satisfaction, nodding as he stared at the blade, his grin not faltering for a moment. "Every time I use it, it'll be like cutting off Ned Stark's head all over again."

She knew he wanted her to bite his bait, to goad her into a conflict but Oberyn spoke more sense.  _Words cut deeper than swords_ , and all she would wish to do was to wound his pride with her wit. "Except you never cut off his head Your Grace, Ser Ilyn did the deed." Eliana announced to Joffrey's delight, tilting her head as she regarded Joffrey with a steely look. "and unlike you... my father swung the sword himself."

Twitching, Joffrey pointed the sword in her direction as she smiled at him. "Perhaps I'll take yours next." It was an empty threat, she knew, Tywin had already warned him about such things.

Her smile simply widened.  _Perhaps..._

* * *

She never could bear silence, and she'd never liked the Sept either... it wasn't a place she liked to visit, not even when her mother forced her to attend with her. The Seven never answered her prayers, neither had the old but the Seven weren't her gods as much as her mother would hate to hear fall from her lips.

Margaery had been blessed with a slender and shapely figure that allowed her dress to fit her like an hourglass with thick, soft curling brown her to bounce along her back as she and her father strode to where Joffrey stood waiting for her. However, unknown to most, she had been graced with her grandmother's wits and unlike her father, understood politics and the game very well which only delighted Eliana even more. She knew what Margaery was deep down, and she was thankful she knew how to play the game just as well.

Margaery would cause problems, immense issues that would wreak havoc upon the Lannisters beyond repair.

Joffrey draped his cloak, _his grandmother's cloak_ , across her shoulders and stood back with a grin plastered across his face.

The High Septon raised his hands, drawing the attention of the crowd to the couple stood before him as he draped a lengthy strip of silk across their hands while he began to speak. "Let it be known that Margaery of House Tyrell and Joffrey of the Houses Lannister and Baratheon are one heart, one flesh, one soul." The Septon wrapped the silk over their hands to show that they'd been bound by love before he proceeded to free their hands. "Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder."

Turning to the crowd, Joffrey still wore his devilish grin. "With this kiss, I pledge my love." Proclaiming so, he lent towards Margaery suddenly and forced his lips against hers.

"Talk about romance." Eliana rolled her eyes as Catelyn hummed at her side, clapping but refusing to watch as they kissed. That had been one of the reasons Eliana had refused to be married in a Sept, for all to see? No, just her mother and father and siblings were all she needed, not a spectacle for people to dictate to.

"We have a new queen." She heard her sister utter under her breath to her husband.

Tyrion sighed, reluctantly clapping. "Better her than you." He briefly glanced away from his wife and met the eyes of her sister, nodded at her in acknowledgement.

Eliana smiled at his words, wondering why Sansa had complained for having such a husband as Tyrion, he was far better than most... he would consider her welfare before his own. He was a good man and nowadays, that was hard to come by. Tywin had acted rightly in having Tyrion marry Sansa instead of allowing her to marry Joffrey, and that she admired.

They fled the Sept soon enough, the breeze hitting her face as she and her mother walked, trailing behind Oberyn and Thomos as they chatted away. Catelyn eyes fell upon Jaime and she sighed, a small smile playing upon her lips. "You love him, don't you?" She questioned softly, watching as her daughter frowned in confusion at her words, obviously misunderstanding.

"Of course I love Oberyn, I wouldn't have gone to such lengths to marry him if I didn't, mother." Eliana stated, though her confused look didn't shift as she continued to watch Catelyn with a narrowed gaze.

Shaking her head, Catelyn tightened her grip on Eliana's arm as they walked on. "No, not Oberyn... I'm talking about Jaime." The last part came out in a whisper, drifting into Eliana's ear to make her eye's widen at her mother. Catelyn knew something had gone on between them, but Eliana had spoken nothing of it to and she was beyond concerned for whatever occurred when she sent her off with him.

Eliana's lips fell into a grim line. "Then you'd be mistaken."

However, Catelyn wasn't convinced... she knew that Jaime loved her daughter but she needed to know if her daughter loved him in return, and she couldn't help but believe she did. "I don't think I am Lia, that's the problem. I've seen the exchanges you both send one another, the way you speak with one another... something happened when I set him free." Catelyn prompted, taking advantage that her daughter looked suddenly vulnerable.

"He's not the Kingslayer anymore..." She muttered to herself, turning her gaze the sites before them. "I watched as our men, _our banners,_  chewed him up and spat him back out... I watched him go from the Kingslayer to Jaime Lannister." The memory made her eyes sting, the night she saved his life and almost lost her own...  _I saved his life, a man I was supposed to hate._  "He's not the man without honour anymore, he has honour, I've seen it plenty a time. He saved my life, he came back for me when he no cause to..."

Catelyn nodded. "And do you love him?"

But still Eliana avoiding the question, unable to answer it because she, herself, was unsure if she did or not... she was unsure of who she loved, and she didn't want to admit to something that would ending up breaking hearts. He loves me, he's told me enough times but I cannot love him. And that he knows." Her reply was calm and collected, despite how much she wanted to scream at her mother for bringing up at such an event.

"But you do love him?"

Eliana looked to her mother, her eyes staring into hers as she let out a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding. "Mother, let us enjoy the feast, all right? We'll talk more about it later." She tried, but failed to shake Catelyn off her case, and instead earned a sharp glare from her mother as she clung to her arm.

" _Will we?_ "

 _No_ , Eliana wanted to say but refrained from doing so, allowing her walls to slither into a heap of failure. "What else do you want me to say? That I made the wrong choice, that I do love him?" She let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head in irritation, not at her mother, but because of herself... for being so stupid and pathetic to cause such a mess. "I did my duty as did you, I didn't complain, I did what I was told by father and by Doran... I promised myself to Oberyn and I kept that vow. I honoured it because it was the best alliance, even father said that it would be needed for strategic need."

Catelyn didn't look happy by what her daughter had said, a deep frown pulling on her lips as she continued to stare, in intrigue rather than shock.

"Don't look at me like that..." Eliana let out in defeat, not even bothering to look at her mother, knowing she was already pulling a face. "I love Oberyn, I do, I've loved him since he hit me with his spear in the Water Gardens. I do love him, but I never contemplated loving another man as well, and what terrifies me, is that Oberyn may know - I can see it in the way he looks at me and the way he looks at Jaime." She rambled out, her eyes falling upon her husband as they strolled through the seated crowds. "I'm also quite certain he asked you, and you told him a lie..."

" _Does she love him?_ " Catelyn remembered her husband asking, and she remembered not being at all surprised by the question... she'd been waited for such a question to fall from his lips.

" _Who, Jaime?_ " She had said as if she didn't know. " _I believe, as far as I'm aware, their relationship is strictly platonic and nothing more._ "

" _You believe... so it could be something more?_ " He had pressed curiously.

" _Perhaps, but I know when my daughter loves a man, Oberyn, and she does love you._ "

"It was to protect you." Catelyn promised wistfully, watching as a warm smile broke out onto her daughter's face. In truth, she had been worried if Oberyn were ever to approach Eliana about the situation, and she knew she had to put the thought to bed before he did something.

Eliana stopped and turned to look at Catelyn fully, watching her with a warm look. Such a strong woman, still protecting her pups despite them leaving the pack... "Even now... you're still protecting me?" She laughed gently, the corners of her mother turning upwards and into a smile.

Catelyn stroked her cheek fondly, wishing she was her little girl again, her little companion who followed her around Riverrun like a shadow, who clung to her leg... who hugged her tight and uttered "I love you's" but she was a grown woman and expecting a child of her own. And Catelyn would love her grandchild. "Of course, you'll always be my daughter..." Her hands fell on her stomach, her smiled growing. "Does my grandchild have a name yet?"

"No, he doesn't." Eliana smiled as she led her mother to where Oberyn and Thomos had settled right before the head table to her disbelief, but she knew Oberyn why had picked the table... he wanted her to have the perfect view. Eliana watched as Olenna move towards her sister.

Olenna approached Sansa, striding past the Joffrey to meet the girl sat only on the other side, desperate to bring some comfort to her. "You look exquisite, child." She touched her hair, adjusting it absently as she spoke.

Sansa beamed at her words, "Oh, thank you Lady Olenna, my sister did my hair... it's absolutely wonderful; I wish she did it more often." She explained to the older woman with a soft look.

"Indeed." She agreed with a curt nod. "I haven't had the opportunity to tell you how sorry I was to hear about your brother. War is war, but killing a man at a wedding, horrid. What sort of monster would do such a thing?" She asked in thought, smiling at the girl before her who wore a confused but distant look upon her face while she rubbed her cheek. "As if men need more reasons to fear marriage."

"My lady. My lady." Tyrion greeted the both of them, moving to take his seat beside Sansa.

"Lord Tyrion, you see? Not as bad as all that." Olenna comforted Sansa warmly, still smiling at her before she glanced over at her sister who sat watching. "Perhaps if your pauper husband were to sell his mule and his last pair of shoes, he might be able to afford to bring you to Highgarden for a visit. Now that peace has come and all is right with the world, it would do you good to see some of it..." Olenna wondered thoughtfully, earning a bright smile from Sansa at her words.

"You must excuse me. It's time I ate some of this food I paid for." Turning on her heel, Olenna's eyes fell upon Eliana who was seated at one of the front tables, nodding to her as she made her way back towards her own seat at the head table.

Eliana smiled at Olenna's eagerness, knowing the the woman was minutes away from putting their plan into action. She could feel the excitement rushing through her body at the mere thought of what was to come.

Moving towards the head table, Eliana stopped before her sister and smiled faintly. "Are you all right, Sansa?" She pressed in light concern, her eyes flickering between Sansa and Tyrion. She noted her sister's hesitation, "You can tell me, you know."

However, Sansa looked past Tyrion and became skittish when she caught the Queen staring at her. Eliana followed her gaze to see Margaery watching them, sighing, she drew Sansa's attention back to her and nodded for her to speak. "It's just... Will his torment of me stop now? Now that he has a new Queen?"She muttered, and Eliana hared a look with Tyrion, sighing once more.

"I doubt it," She told her earnestly, reaching for her sister's hand gingerly. "You needn't worry about him no more; I'll keep you safe, just like I promised. I don't break my promises, little sister."

"But what if he harms Margaery?" Sansa asked suddenly, causing Eliana to smile.

"I think Margaery can handle herself, Sansa."

Tyrion placed his nearest hand over hers, "You mustn't worry anymore. I told you; I can protect you." He vowed as Sansa nodded in silent agreement.

"You have a fine husband, sister." Eliana mused as she looked at the pair."You ought to hold on to him, they're hard to come by these days."

As her eyes scanned the crowds around her, she knew only four people knew of what would soon happen, and she could only brace herself for the sheer entertainment that would be upon them soon enough. Being pulled from her thoughts, she sighed when she saw Joffrey had stood from his chair while sporting his usual smirk. "Everyone." He announced, glancing down at his queen as she rose to her feet. "The Queen would like to say a few words."

An erupt of cheers raged around the feast at the sight of the new queen, the capital welcoming her warmly to her new status within the realm.

"We are so fortunate to enjoy this marvellous food and drink. Not all among us are so lucky." Margaery called out to the crowds, her smile widening as her voice echoed across the tables. "To thank the gods for bringing the recent war to a just end, King Joffrey has decreed that the leftovers from our feast be given to the poorest in his city."

Cheers erupted once more.

Beside her son, Cersei rose to congratulate Margaery but it wouldn't take a fool to know she wanted nothing more than to kill the girl for taking her crown from her. She was obviously bitter to the whole concept of no longer being the queen of the Seven Kingdoms, however, that prospect did nothing by delight Eliana further than she already was.

Standing, she sighed deeply and climbed to her feet when she felt a sudden unease. "What's wrong?" She looked to see Oberyn's brows had knitted together in worry for her sudden movement.

"He's moving, that's all." She waved him off, feeling his hands upon her stomach as a warm smile graced his lips as she started to wander away.

She wasn't exactly certain why her wandering had led her to the head table once more, but she felt she needed to converse with Joffrey once more, but not to diffuse the tension - that would bring her no enjoyment or contentment for that matter.

Upon seeing her approach, Margaery immediately rose from her seat, a wide smile spreading across her lips as she opened her arms in greeting and moved around the table to hug her friend to her closely. "Lia! It has been too long, I feel awful for having not spoken to you sooner..." Margaery spoke for her ears only, her voice soft yet earnest and welcoming to hear.

Smiling, Eliana returned the embrace rather quickly. Her opinion of Margaery hadn't wavered since their meeting a couple years prior; she trusted her and she was very fond of her company... she spoke of sense and honesty, a welcomed pairing. "Marg, it has been such a long time... I would've come sooner if not for small vendettas that required my attention," Eliana replied just as warmly as Margaery gripped her hand fiercely, her eyes brown eyes burning into her.

" _My Queen_." Joffrey corrected Eliana, his smirk growing whilst Margaery tried her best not to scowl. "It's  _Queen Margaery_  now."

Margaery shook her head, her curls bouncing softly. "Nonsense; Marg will do just fine, Lia knows that." She brushed him off simply which didn't settle well within Joffrey at her having humiliated her in front of an enemy.

To Joffrey's annoyance, Eliana had barely glanced his way but she hadn't failed to sense his irritation and decided to give in. "My King."

Joffrey nodded briefly, clenching his jaw tight before he chose to spoke. "My lady... you look well." He gestured to her physique, though if he was honest with himself, it was anything but Margaery had stared at him in a way that made him want to be civil towards the woman.

However, Margaery brushed him off again, gleefully, and pressed a firm palm against Eliana's stomach and smiled wider if that was possible. "Doesn't she look wonderful..."

Laughing, Eliana touched Margaery's hand with her own and smiled before sighing. "I look fat." She rephrased for them both kindly which evidently amused Joffrey as he snickered from his sat, his crown almost falling from upon his head. "Something funny, Your Grace? You see, this is what happens when your husband's libido gets the better of him..." She paused as Joffrey's smirk died, his eyes growing deadly as he listened to her speak. "But I fear you may struggle to even find yours, let alone get it up to perform with."

At the words, Joffrey straightened in his chair as his face contorted in distaste, and neither did she miss the tightening of Margaery's hand within her own and the one upon her stomach. "Why you- "

Thankfully, Margaery cut him off for if he had continued, Eliana wasn't quite sure how she would have reacted to whatever he planned to say... all she knew, was that it would be dignified as lady-like. "You simply must come and find me once he's born to you - or send for me." She beamed beautifully, her smile once again wide as she tried to banish the tension that lingered. "I wish to share a warm embrace with this babe, the Prince of the North and a handsome prince he will be if he is to look anything like his parents, of course."

Eliana smiled. "You are most kind."

Margaery returned it warmly, "We'll speak later?" She asked, her eyes full of concern but mirth as she urged Eliana to agree to her wishes, wanting her to make the point of seeing her more often rather than becoming a stranger.

"Of course."

"Good," Margaery confirmed, pressing her lips to Eliana's cheek before whispering. "I've so many secrets to share."

Bowing her head, Eliana smiled to herself as she turned her back upon the head table, but not before a scowl crossed her face as something entered her line of view.

Eliana narrowed her eyes when she caught sight of Jaime in his white armour, which she'd thought he'd given up. "Why are you wearing that cloak again?" She pressed in a demanding tone, a little confused since he'd sworn himself to her and forbade ever wearing that armour again.

Jaime winced with a shrug and nodded to his sister as she strode from her seat at the head table. "My sister feels I need to be of some use, instead of being the futile maimed fool I've become." It was the truth, he didn't want to wear it but Cersei had persisted to the point where Jaime couldn't stand to hear her dulcet tones.

Ignoring his armour, she smiled at him and looked down. "Your sister appears to be in rather a foul mood." Eliana noted to Jaime's annoyance.

"What gave her away?" He questioned with a smirk playing on his lips at his own words and what he was about to stay. " _Her smile_  or  _her smile?_ " His sister's smile had been as false and as fake as a smile could be, he was certain that even Margaery knew that she detested her for taking what she'd held so dear: her son and her crown.

Eliana was about to reply when she felt an arm link with hers.

"Anyone would have seen the sourness in her congratulating Margaery, your sister has worn the crown for so many years that it must have left her neck a bit crooked, don't you think?" Oberyn had approached them in the short time, Catleyn having alerted him to the pair and him being slightly suspicious, wandered over with a grin.

"Prince Oberyn." Tywin called in greeting as he and his daughter walked up to where they were stood talking. He smiled when his eyes landed upon Eliana, sending her a curt nod before moving on. "Princess Eliana... Jaime." His voice turned sour when it reached his son, his eyes growing dark and unreadable as he stared at his son before him in his white armour.

"Lord Tywin. Lady Cersei." Oberyn nodded respectively, pulling Eliana closer to him.

Cersei tilted her head in interest, finding the three of them to be an odd combination. "And what are you all gossiping about?" She wondered aloud, her eyes narrowing at her brother as he stood opposite her.

Jaime was expecting Oberyn to out him to his father in some ploy that was unknown to him but he didn't to his unexpected surprise. "Ah, I was just saying to your brother and my wife that I expect it is a relief, Lady Cersei, giving up your regal responsibilities, having worn the crown for so many years must have left your neck a bit crooked."

Eliana tried to not laugh at his words but that didn't stop the smile gracing her lips as she saw Cersei's face contort in pure fury.

"I suppose you'll never know, Prince Oberyn." Cersei replied sourly, her mouth drawn taut in discomfort.

Tywin stepped in then, knowing the Dornishman's word were chipping away at his daughter. "It's a shame your older brother couldn't attend the wedding. Please give him our regards. With any luck, the gout will abate with time and he will be able to walk again." Tywin informed Oberyn, hoping to catch him off guard but he knew, alike his wife, he was also quick-witted.

Chuckling, Oberyn popped a grape into his mouth as he hummed, glancing at Eliana briefly. "They call it the rich man's disease - a wonder you don't have it."

"Noblemen in my part of the country don't enjoy the same lifestyle as our counterparts in Dorne."

Oberyn's smile dipped slightly as he nodded in agreement. "People everywhere have their differences. In some places the highborn frown upon those of low birth, in other places the rape and murder of women and children is considered distasteful." Oberyn held Tywin gaze until his eyes landed upon Cersei, as he felt Eliana's arm tighten around his own, warning him silently but he dismissed it. "What a fortunate thing for you, former Queen Regent, that your daughter Myrcella has been sent to live in the latter sort of place."

An eerie silence fell between them, and soon Eliana pulled Oberyn away from Tywin and Cersei so they could rejoin their table before threats would surface and teeth would be beared. "You warn me for doing things I shouldn't, and yet, you and your subtle threats. We are on alike, dear husband." She sighed, forcing him into his chair before sitting down herself just as Joffrey stood.

"Everyone, silence! Clear the floor." Joffrey was glaring harshly at the crowds before him, his glower dark and conflicting as his brow flickered. "There's been too much amusement here today. A royal wedding is not an amusement, a royal wedding is history. The time has come for all of us to contemplate our history." He proclaimed, raising his goblet to the crowds before him before gesturing towards an immense lion head sat to the side. "My lords... my ladies... I give you King Joffrey..." He started as a dwarf came tumbling from the lion's mouth "...Renly, Stannis, Robb Stark, Balon Greyjoy." Four others joined him as they all rode down the ramp to gather before the head table. "The War of the Five Kings."

Her grip tightened on her goblet as the dwarves gathered around to play in Joffrey's efforts to humiliate his uncle and to add another purposeful claw mark onto her and her family. Even Oberyn's hand upon her own wouldn't tame her anger at what she was seeing, seeing the pain on her sister's face and on her mother's.

Joffrey took such blatant delight in reminding them of how he's taken one Stark's head after another and so the dwarf intended to be her brother Robb was her very own tormentor.

"Let the war begin." The one portraying Joffrey proclaimed as they all scrambled away while the crowds clapped and jeered them on as the one meant to be Renly bounced by.

"Renly, you're no king. Away, degenerate. Away!" The who was portraying Balon Grejoy exclaimed while Stannis chased after him, landing hits upon Renly's backside.

"Ooh, careful." He squealed in delight, poking out his bottom. "Go on, I want you to be my prince." He cried out, enough to force Ser Loras to flee from his seat, having let the performance get to him.

"Who's got the gold now, Stark?" Balon challenged Robb, waving his own weapon in the air. "Challenge me, ruffian!"

Raising his own weapon, Robb charged towards him and landed a hit. "I am the rightful king!" He declared, his voice ripping through the crowds. "Take that."

Wailing upon the floor, Balon rolled around. "I'm drowning. I'm drowning." He flopped like a dead fish as Joffrey continued to snigger and spit his wine everywhere, jolting forward in his seat with laughter.

Thrusting his sword into the air, the one portraying Robb rode away. "I am the King in the North!"

It was when they began to run at each other, did Eliana feel her teeth grind against one another in anguish... she was failing to understand how entertaining a recreation of murders and a false victory could be. As the dwarf playing her brother and Joffrey continued to charge at one another, she felt an uneasy sensation overcome her as she stared transfixed at Joffrey.

... He had dragged himself up, every movement he made required more effort than usual, his limbs had cried out, but he managed it. " _Mother._ " Robb had rasped, begging her to stop with her worthless pleading.

And then it all happened so quickly, " _The Lannisters send their regards..._ " Roose Bolton had whispered in his ear before plunging the knife into his chest, right through his heart and his knees buckled and soon he was falling.

She had jolted back to life with startle; a scream that rung through her ears. As much as it pained her, Eliana had tilted her head as she tried to look to her brother, instead they froze on her brother's falling body. " _Robb..._ " She had murmured, her eyes stinging at the sight, a sob emerging from within her throat.  _No..._

She ignored the charade as Robb's head was struck from his shoulders, she ignored the laughter, the cheers and most of all, she ignored the pain that surged within her chest. Joffrey was making a statement, or at least trying to, but she had a statement of her own that would soon emerge from the shadows.

She wasn't the only one... neither Olenna or Margaery found the scene entertaining and they didn't shed a smile at the sight before them. Catelyn's back was turned on the performance, unable to watch what was escalating around her, frightened that her emotions would get the better of her. Oberyn wore a grim line, his hand lacing with his wife's as he sat quietly like the rest of their table, his hand tightly in Catelyn's own as she clutched it firmly.

It was no laughing matter, but it seemed the crowd were none the wiser.

"Fine gentlemen." Joffrey congratulated with a bright smile, "Well fought, well fought. Here you are... champion's purse." Joffrey held out a vermilion leather purse to them but he pulled it back when a frown donned his face. "Though you're not the champion yet, are you? A true champion defeats all the challengers. Surely there are others out there who still dare to challenge my reign." Joffrey's briefly landed upon Eliana as she met his gaze and firmly held it before he turned to Tyrion and bit his cheek in irritation. "Uncle. How about you? I'm sure they have a spare costume."

A roar of laughter rippled through the crowds once more.

Standing, Tyrion dragged himself from his chair to look at his nephew. "One taste of combat was enough for me, Your Grace. I would like to keep what remains of my face. I think you should fight him... this was but a poor imitation of your own bravery on the field of battle. I speak as a firsthand witness. Climb down from the high table with your new Valyrian sword and show everyone how a true king wins his throne." Tyrion announced, his voice strained as he spoke, knowing Joffrey's was glaring daggers at him from where he stood watching with keen eyes. "Be careful, though. This one is clearly mad with lust, it would be a tragedy for the king to lose his virtue hours before his wedding night."

Upon hearing his retort, Eliana laughed at his words, knowing no one else would and knowing it would only make the discontentment more tense. However, her smile dissolved when she saw Joffrey stalking over to his uncle and lifted his goblet to pour his wine over his head.

Even thought he was supposed to be humiliated, Tyrion kept his head held high. "A fine vintage... shame that it spilled." He let out, trying to ignore the fact that wine was running down his back, soaking his small clothes and probably staining them too.

"It did not spill." Joffrey spat.

Margaery spoke out then, holding her hand out to him, wishing to diffuse the tension once more which Eliana was thankful for. "My love, come back to me. It's time for my father's toast." She alerted Joffrey, as he began walking back to her steadily.

Frowning, he gestured to his goblet. "Well, how does he expect me to toast without wine?" He questioned her lightly, spinning to face Tyrion once more with a small smirk. "Uncle, you can be my cup-bearer seeing as you're too cowardly to fight."

A faint smile fell upon Tyrion's lips as he looked at his nephew. "Your Grace does me a great honour." He nodded in thanks.

His words did nothing to subside Joffrey's growing fury, his fingers tightening around his goblet. "It's not meant as an honour." Joffrey's voice was dark and low, warning Tyrion as he glowered at him, reluctantly forcing him to leave his chair. He walked towards him, ready to take his goblet for Joffrey to drop it so it landed before him on the floor, when Tyrion went to reach for it he struck it with his foot, sending it flying beneath the table. "Bring me my goblet."

Hesitant, Tyrion slowly began to venture for the goblet, disappearing beneath the table in search for it, however, to his relief Sansa took it in her hands. He crawled out from under the table and took it from her, turning to Joffrey who still wore his scowl - obviously having taken a disliking to Sansa aiding his uncle, he sought to punish her also.

He huffed and rolled his eyes, "What good is an empty cup?  _Fill it._ " He watched dangerously as the wine swam into the goblet, but even as Tyrion offered him his drink; Joffrey wasn't satisfied. "Kneel... kneel before your king.  _Kneel_. I said... kneel!" He roared, his face glowering a deep cerise shade at his uncle's defiant nature.

"Look, the pie."

Bulbous and ugly was the giant pastry that was placed before them, decorated with roses and lions and stags, entwined together to symbolize the unity of their houses through their marriage.

Drawing his sword, Joffrey started towards the pie. "My queen." Raising the blade, he swung it in a downwards arc that cut brutally into the soft pastry, allowing less than a dozen doves to flutter free from within.

Margaery clapped at his success, smiling as she enveloped him a tight embrace. "Wonderful, wonderful. My hero." She admired with a soft look, her hand trailing over his cheek as Joffrey joined her, allowing her to feed him the pie as it was handed to her.

Chewing, Joffrey heard shuffling sounds behind him and he sighed in agitation at being disobeyed once more. "Uncle." Joffrey turned to face him, his eyebrows narrowed in question as he and Sansa moved to leave the feast. "Where are you going? You're my cup-bearer, remember?"

Sighing loudly, Tyrion glanced at Sansa with a regretful look. "I thought I might change out of these wet clothes, Your Grace." He lied, knowing that his wife wanted nothing more than to leave desperately.

"No, no, no. No, you're perfect the way you are. Serve me my wine." Joffrey demanded, adamant that they were to both stay. He turned his back as Tyrion went to retrieve his wine, handing his plate to Margaery. "Well, hurry up. This pie is dry." He complained, as he felt the chilly gold enter his palm, bringing the goblet to his lips and drinking deeply. "Mm, good... needs washing down."

"If it please Your Grace, Lady Sansa is very tired- " Tyrion tried once more, but only to be cut off.

Shaking his head, Joffrey started to speak. "No- No, you'll wait here..." A violent wheeze escaped his lips, causing him to brutally begin to splutter all over the place, unable to catch his breath. "It's nothing." Joffrey managed, after taking another desperate gulp of the wine, however, it seemed to worsen his condition.

Margaery's face fell in horror at the sight of her husband before her, his hand clasped around his throat as he tried to breathe. "He's choking!" She exclaimed in utter panic, not knowing what to do.

"Help the poor boy. Idiots, help your king!" Olenna cried in outrage, as Joffrey started stumbling down the steps on his own accord while Cersei and Tywin jumped up from their seats.

Soon enough, Joffrey was upon the floor, gasping for air and not finding any to Eliana delight. She couldn't help the smile that graced her lips as she watched the whelp convulse on the ground while he mother rushed to his side, hoping to aid him in some way.

Cersei dropped to her knees, turning over her son as vomit flew from his mother. "Joffrey! Joffrey!" She wailed, her face stilling at the sight of him. His face had turned blotchy and his eyes had become bloodshot as he clawed at his neck. "Help him! Someone help him!" Cersei continued to cry as Joffrey slowed raised his hand, pointing.

Despite the chaos, no one noticed the King's fool, Ser Dontos Hollard approach Sansa, no one but her sister observed as he pulled her away from the scene to lead to her to safety... to lead her to Littlefinger. It was the safest option for her, and the only way to free her from the Lannisters... no matter how much it pained her to do so, Eliana had to get Sansa away from the capital before it was too late.

Writhing on the floor, blood ran free from Joffrey's nose, pooling on either side of his head as he weakened gradually, his strength dying as was he. His face had grown bruised and irritated, red blotches sprouting everywhere as he wheezed sickly. Sluggish and horrifying, Joffrey's body twitched no more, his fingers stilled and his eyes were unmoving as was his chest... he was dead.

Sobbing, Cersei rocked Joffrey against her, tears falling from her eyes to ruin her cheeks. "My son."

Cersei looked to her Tyrion, fury taking the place of her despair in that moment, she beared her teeth in his direction. "He did this. He poisoned my son,  _your king_. Take him. Take him! Take him!"

As Cersei continued to wail, Eliana glanced over at Olenna who was comforting Margaery, nodding briefly as the older woman returned it with a slight smile sneaking across her lips. She was thankful for Oberyn choosing such an enchanting seat, allowing her to witness her work first hand... and disappointed she wasn't.

Her game of Cyvasse was playing out wonderfully to her utmost pleasure. With the king dead, only the dragon was left: Tywin.


	46. Strong

It happened all too fast.

Joffrey was on the floor, gasping for air and flopping like a fish... and the Ser Dontos is unexpectedly at her side, saying words that she had longed to hear for so long that they effortlessly caught her attention as he urged her to follow him, whispering that they didn't have much time. Her eyes flicker to Cersei who was already laying the blame upon her poor husband, the Imp, and she couldn't help feel like going to him, running to his side to defend him as he had defended her so many times over.

However, she doesn't get the chance, choosing the flee before she could even properly think her decision through, running after Dontos as he tugged her along. She heard the bells begin to toll, carrying through the air almost as loud as the beating of her heart as it raged through her chest.  _I didn't kill Joffrey... why am I running?_ She was confused, knowing that doing such a thing as she was then would only make her appear suspicious.

Ser Dontos led her to a ting boat, but Sansa forced herself to come to a halt when it occurs to her that she would be leaving behind her mother and her sister after only just being reunited with them. She turns and looks at the path leading the way back into the Lion's Den and then she steps towards the boat.

Warching as the balding man took the oars into his hands, Sansa pulled the hood of her cloak over her head and held it in the place to prevent the wind from messing her hair and chilling her face. "Ser Dontos... where are you taking me?" Sansa pressed, intrigued and absolutely terrified.

The man eyed her pointedly, looking pained by her question. "Quiet, my lady." He warned harshly, wary of their surroundings, especially since not being from King's Landing though he'd grown into a man within its courts and he still appeared afraid. "Here... I have a note for you." He paused in his rowing to pass a piece of parchment that's seal had not yet been broken.

Her hands thumbed over the corners, ripping it open as she began to read.

_Sansa,_

_The location of where you will be in a week's time I cannot tell you - not even the skin of wine with legs will know, but I can tell you that you will be with those who seek to not harm you... King's Landing is not safe for you now, not with all the rising dangers. Tyrion will be imprisoned following Joffrey's death, and I knew you needed to not be there because they would only take you as well and that couldn't happen. You may not like where you are going, but I can assure you, I will come and get you as soon as I can._

_Tyrion didn't kill Joffrey, allies killed him._

_Sansa, you will need to grow up before your time - now more than ever, I need you to be strong and I need you to lose all the girly foolishness you grew up with... the world isn't some fairy tale, if anything, it's a game... and people die in this game. We already lost father and Robb to this game, and if were to live, we need to play the game - we need to gain leverage over those who want us dead. You need to harden that soft heart of yours, and sharp your senses and use yours wits to your advantage... you'll need to be ruthless to survive._

_Stay strong, sweet sister and remember that mother and I love you._

_Eliana_

Clearly shaken and confused, Sansa looked to the oaf rowing and sniffled while he heaved and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Where are you taking me,  _Ser?_ " Her voice had harden, growing dark and emotionless as she glowered at him, taking her sister's words to heart, clutching the note against her chest.

"To safety."

* * *

Jaime pulled himself away from the crowds, not even bothered if they notice he was gone; he's not important, no now... he just a cripple, cripples aren't important to anyone. Why did he care? He shouldn't care, should he? Joffrey was never truly his son, he could never love him freely, never teach him how to fight, never be a father to him.

He knew he should be rejoicing at the news that he was dead, but that was still a part of him processing he'd just lost his son... he wasn't happy, he couldn't be happy. Joffrey was dead and he failed to save him, that was his job and he let him die. He failed him.  _My son is dead_ , the words didn't seem real but he knew they were,  _I have just lost my first son_.

He wanted to scream, he wanted to hunt down whoever killed that young monster of his; that young, ruthless, heartless monster of a boy... a boy, he was only a boy. _No_ , Jamie's thoughts come to a halt suddenly,  _he wasn't just a boy, he was your boy_. He had never been Robert's boy, not really... always his. He was never Robert's boy, not really.

The words tumbling over his lips, rushing out of his mouth like the waves over the cliffs back at Casterly Rock. "I just lost him." Words weren't the only things falling from his mouth as his cheeks felt chilled and soon it was raining over his hand... he didn't know why he was crying for the loss of such a monster but he thought it natural. "I lost him."

No one cared for the Kingslayer when he couldn't even save the only king that ever mattered to him, his own son.  _But Joffrey had never been my son_ , it had always been Robert's attention that Joffrey had craved seeing as he bore his name, Robert who barely paid him any attention. He remembered for one of his name day's that Joffrey had demanded a war hammer rather than a sword... his own son.

Joffrey had been crowned a king before he was a man, and he'd been donned a corpse before he was a man too... for who no one would truly mourn the loss of. To know Joffrey was torture, and he was certain only one person in the world who could've cared for a child such as him; Cersei, who had claimed the one-dimensional monster to be her favourite child.

Tyrion had killed his son.  _No_ , he thought to himself, not wanting to believe such a thing, shaking his head to rid his mind of such treacherous things.  _Tyrion would never... he couldn't have.._. but his faith in his brother could be mistaken... perhaps Tyrion had, and who could blame him? Joffrey had gone like Aerys, not in the same way exactly... but he'd lost all sense of clarity.

The son he had never had, never been allowed to have, not to touch and not to teach... how he wished to name his boy a lion rather than a stag. He would've been a far more worthy father than Robert had ever been to him, he'd stood vigil for over a day and a night during his birth and where had Robert been?! Hunting in the Kingswood like the shit he'd always been.

But he'd lost everything, they were both gone. His firstborn son along with love between him and his twin that had made him, and the hand that defined him; taken by the Stranger, somewhere beyond his reach... and he always believed that lions owned and won everything but how wrong he'd been.

"Jamie?" He didn't wish to answer to her, he didn't feel he had to answer to anyone right then... had it been anyone else he would've have told them where to go but... he couldn't do that to Eliana. "Jaime?" She moved beside him, frowning.

He'd never cried in front of anyone before, that Eliana would be the first person to see him cry in such a way but he didn't care. However, he felt that she had the right and that she would be the only one to bear witness to his pain. His head against her shoulder, his armour digging into her skin as he did so, yet she didn't move or complain at the discomfort.

"Talk to me, Jamie." Her voice was soft and warm, encouraging as the sun that shone down upon Casterly Rock. "I don't care what leaves your mouth, just talk to me, please... it'll be better if you do." He was reluctant, that much she knew, and she was worried for him when she realised his firstborn son had died but as much as she wished she felt some guilt... there was none present within her.

She didn't feel remorse to killing Joffrey... she paid the debt is all.

"Someone poisoned my son." Jamie exclaimed, his face holding such guilt because he believed it to be his fault; he thought it was his own fault he couldn't save Joffrey from his fat but either way, Joffrey would have still died. "He's dead."

She mentally winced,  _that someone was me._  "There was nothing you could do, Jamie. This wasn't your fault." Eliana had to convince him that he was helpless to aid him, once Joffrey consumed his wine he was dead anyway. She took a strong, firm hold of his arm, forcing him to look at her if she were to get through to him. "There was nothing for you- "

"It's my duty!" Jaime roared, his voice so loud he might as well have been yelling as her voice drifted into oblivion. "It was my duty to protect him and I failed. I should have been paying more attention to him and not you." He rushed out, feeling a sense of sin and misconduct running within his veins, he tried to move around Eliana but she pulled him back to her.

Eliana face fell at the news, if he weren't watching her he believed he could've saved his son...  _and people claimed he had no honour_. "Jaime." Her voice was firm and steady, and Jaime clung to it like a life line, staring at her intensely and wanting nothing more than to kiss her senseless.

He squeezed his eyes shut, dropping his head into his arms before he dragged his remaining hand down his face. "Like the fool I am, I let my heart rule my head and so, I found myself watching you when I should have been protecting him." His voice cracked as he finished his sentence, more tears threatening to break through his fortified defences.

He knew he must look a right state... covered in Joffrey's vomit and blood. His son's blood. The flood suddenly ruptured from inside of him and drizzled down his cheeks to ruin him. He ripped himself away from her when she tried to reach for him once again, but he tripped and almost fell if she'd not caught him.

"Jaime... you need to calm down." She soothed, pulling him to her as he emotions cascaded through him and out into the open. "Jaime." He pulled back to look at her, biting the inside of his cheek. "You have to listen to me: this is not your fault... no one saw such a thing coming and no one wished it, whether he deserved it- " He shot her look when the words left her mouth. "- Or not but I can tell you this: this is not  _your_  fault, and if anyone dare blames you for anything to do with this horror, I will willingly take your place because you did nothing wrong."

"Don't you dare say that." Jaime growled fiercely, shaking his head at her which made her frown.

She smiled, stroking his golden hair absently. "And why not? I am merely willing to pay the debt: you've saved my life on numerous occasions and I owe you." She meant every word, truly she did, and she knew he knew that because Eliana always meant everything that she said. "I owe you."

"The others will need me, Lia. Cersei, Margaery and Tyrion." He tried to pull away from her but she yanked him back, refusing to let him go.

Eliana took hold of his shoulders, trying to shake some logical sense into him before he hurt himself more than he already was. "Stop worrying about them and spare a second thought for yourself, yes?" He hands trailed to his face as she held him in place, her eyes boring into his and he looked as though he wanted nothing more than to retaliate and argue but instead, he refrained from doing so.

"Someone will see I'm gone. It'll look suspicious. You could get into trouble, you're a Stark... it won't look good for you."

"I saw you leave and I knew how hard this had hit you... I came so I could be here for you and all you do is fight and writhe - would've you rather I'd left you to wallow in your grief, Jaime?" Her words stuck in his throat, and she spun on her heels and started towards the doors, irritated that he was so determined to not allow her to calm him before he action out of grief.

 _... To you wallow in your grief_ , she had spat in his face with such a fierce bite that made Jaime stop and call her back to him. "Why did you come?" Jaime pressed, finding himself unable to meet her eyes but his words appeared to be enough to make her turn and face him again.

Eliana's jaw clenched and un-clenched. "I thought- I feared you would do something reckless, knowing from past experiences of what you preferred to do in situations such as these."

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards into a smile, "You were worried about me?"

"Would you like me to stay?" Eliana questioned when he reached for her, trying to pull her to him. "Do you want me to stay?" He nodded but said nothing more as she sat down beside him, letting him lean against her. "Tell me about him... when he was younger."

"When I first saw him in  _her_  arms, I had never felt so proud... it was the happiest moment of my life, to see this little boy who would cry as soon as my sister put him down - he was my boy. It was obvious from the start, Baratheons were black of hair and had been for generations; Robert, Stannis, and Renly and yet no one dared say a word."

"Cersei always said as a baby he would only smile for her but he smiled at me once... and I swore my heart would burst with joy but then I saw him for what he was when he did what he did to your father. He was the most insulting, cruel boy in all of Westeros and, yet, I still find myself missing him now he's gone." Jaime concluded, taking her hand into his good one and choosing to speak again when she said nothing because she was probably unsure of what to say. "I wonder if I could have saved him."

"Jamie."

"Do you think it was Tyrion?" Jaime asked, turning to face her so he could see her properly, her eyes boring into him, never remembering them to look so azure before. "Honestly, be truthful." He added, when he feared she may have chosen to life as a form to comfort him.

Eliana shrugged, "Honestly? ... No, I don't believe or think your brother was responsible for his death."  _Because I planned it, because it was me._ She frowned to herself, sickened that she was lying to him to spare him more pain than he deserved. "No matter how much of a shit Joffrey was, I do not believe for one moment that he would do such a thing to spite yourself, your father and your sister."

Jaime smiled at her words, thankful that she believed his brother would not commit such a crime. "I will have to help him out, Lia; he's my brother... and I know whatever I do will upset one person or another." He shut his eyes out of annoyance, trying to block out his sister's screams. "Stay with me?" He pleaded, his voice very frail like the prospect of her leaving weakened him.

Eliana rolled her eyes, stroking his hair again. "As long as you wish me to."

Jaime smiled as his eyes sparkled. "Eternity is a long time but I think it would suffice."

"You would get fed up with me." Eliana assured him. "I would get fed up with me."

Jaime's smile grew at her remark, staring at her with strained eyes as it appeared she'd stolen his sarcasm. "Where would I be without you, Lia?"

"Drowned in that bath probably."

* * *

Spitting her drink from her mouth, Eliana stared dumbfounded at Oberyn from where he stood across the room with his arms folded and a firm frown sewn upon his brow. "What?" She laughed breathlessly, glowering at him slowly.

Oberyn shrugged hopelessly, finally voicing his concerns of the past previous months. "It's a simple question Lia; do you love a Lannister?" Her husband spoke, his voice still soft but betrayal gradually crept into his words.

"Of course not… I married you Oberyn!" Eliana growled, worried that all this shouting wouldn't be good for the baby as it would surely stress her out. "If I had wanted to have a lion for a husband, I would've married one!"

"Do you love him, Lia?" He spoke, his gaze slowly slipping away from hers.

"No."

His eyes flew back to her in irritation, dark with anger. He knew she was lying to him, it was evident on her face and in her words... and that upset him more than anything. "I don't believe you." Why would she lie to him?

"And why would you believe such a thing in the first place?" She started towards him, her jaw tightening and dropping in irritation as she stood before him.

Scoffing, Oberyn laughed at her statement. "The way you look at him... that was how you used to look at me." His voice pained her to hear, but he could stop it filling him as he watched her, her hands lying upon the babe inside of her...  _their child, his son_. "You love him, I can see it and I can't help but wonder if you regret marrying me because I fear for your unhappiness."

Smiling, she stroking his cheek with her hand, her brow dropping. "I am not unhappy... don't you think for a second that you make me so." Eliana whispered quietly, wanting to banish such thoughts from his mind.

"Really?" He breathed, hissing through his teeth as he pulled his face away from her hands. "You make think I am a fool, but that is the last thing I am, I can assure you, my love... why can't you just admit it?"

"Because I don't love him, but everyone seems to be adamant that I do... I think I would know if I did!" She growled, seething through her teeth as her eyes transformed into slits as she and Oberyn glared at one another.

Oberyn turned and slammed his hands down upon the table behind him, his back hunched over in fury despite how much he wanted to calm himself he couldn't bring himself to do so. "I hate being lied to, Lia... and you're lying to me right now." He gripped the table as if he hoped to transfer the pain into the wood.

"I am not."

And soon he was laughing again, his robe catching her like a bite as he swirled around to meet her. "Then why are you shouting?" Oberyn dared, stepping towards her until his nose was pressed against her forehead as an attempt to intimidate her.

Eliana let out a small breath, "Because you're not listening to me."

Oberyn nodded, moving his hands up her arms in a soft motion. "It's possible for a person to love more than one person." He whispered in a husky breath, its warmth tickling her skin as he spoke.

Eliana stepped away, bowing her head, feeling a twinge in her stomach that made her jolt backwards. "I don't love him."

"Yes, you do! I am not as blind as you think I am, Eliana!" Oberyn proclaimed, gripping his hair tightly between his fingertips as he watched her before he began to pace once more, allowing himself to become stressed again. "When you see him, you smile and your eyes light up when in his presence - I don't think you realise how much you love him." He confirmed hurtful with a sad smile, cringing at the truth.

"What do you want me to say?" She let out a deep sigh of defeat, refusing to meet his eyes out of guilt.

Reaching forward, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and trailed his fingers along her jaw until they fell to drop at his side. "What hurts me the most is that you can't even bring yourself to  _admit_  to me that you do. I want you to tell me the truth." And with that he strode from the solar, the doors slamming against the walls as he did.

She didn't even hear Thomos step inside the room after his departure. "Eliana?" Thomos's voice was full of concern as she looked to her childhood friend. He was frowning, expression full of the same concern that laced his voice. "Eliana, is everything alright?"

"Hm-mm." She blinked and rubbed a hand over her face, though she winced suddenly at another twinge in her stomach.

She heard Thomos bark at Markas to fetch the Maester but she quickly called out, stopping the man. "I'm fine," She insisted, sending him a weak smile as she let out a sharp, strained wheeze. "Being pregnant makes me so damn tired."

Thomos did not look convinced but helped her to stand when she tried, surprised by how weak she felt... something was wrong because this wasn't a pain she was familiar with. "I think I'll get some rest," Eliana muttered as Thomos lingered at her side, his arms supporting and keeping her upright as she wandered slightly.

"You should see the Maester, Lia... you are much paler than you normally are for a northern lass."

Eliana sighed deeply and shook her head, sending a wave of dizziness through her, almost enough to send flying. "I'm fine." She blanked the look he gave, the unimpressed one and the  _'I told you so'_ look which she pretended to not see before she moved away from him.

"Eliana..."

"I'm fine!" Sending him another sharp look that she could barely manage as she fought through the pain, making the man jump back in surprise. "I will be fine, Thomos, trust me."

Thomos looked like he wanted to argue, to force her to go to the Maester, but he finally nodded and she walked away but then a sharp and intense pain rocketed through her and she knew immediately that something was wrong. She'd never felt a pain like this before, it wasn't like a pain of being stabbed or being hurt... something was wrong.

Awfully wrong.

Her hands and arms trembled, weakness washed over her and she gasped at the sharp pain. Her hand, as feeble as it was, pressed immediately to her stomach and soon she felt something racing down the inside of her leg. Glancing down, pressing her hand to the area before pulling it away, she saw the dark liquid. She didn't need to be a Maester to know what it was.

Deep vermilion, her blood laid stained upon her skin.

Her blood.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to fight through the pain, but only to collapse to the floor on her back while Thomos rounded back to face her, shouting something. Pain writhing through her, sickness and weakness inflicting havoc upon her mind, she saw the blood and did the only thing she could in that moment.

She screamed.


	47. Only Death Can Pay for Life

" _Come out and die, Dragon Prince!_ "

His fingernails had grown into cracked yellow claws almost nine inches long, curling over the edge of the arms belonging to his throne; his beard was matted and unwashed, and his ivory hair hung down to his waist in wild tangles knots, his teeth gritted as his darkened indigo eyes glowered. A crown huge and heavy of red gold, each of its points a dragon head with gemstone eyes haunted the crowd gathered around him.

Aerys sneered in his direction, " _Foolish boy, you come here into_ my _keep and accuse my heir of such a crime?_ " He hissed, leaning forward in his throne. " _Rhaegar is not here, you can confess his crimes to me,_ your king!"

" _Where has that snake taken my sister?!_ " He hand moved to his waist where his sword lurked waiting. But before he was able to draw his sword, Brandon Stark was forced to his knees by the assemble of guards at his back that had encircled around him unknowingly, shielding the King from his attack.

Clutching the throne through his scabby hands, Aerys grinned menacingly, pointing at Brandon and to his companions also. " _Arrest them!_ " He exclaimed, his gaze flickering to his Kingsguard. " _Arrest them all!_ "

Soon enough, manacles were forced over Brandon's wrists as he sat on his knees and glowered up at the Mad King. " _You are a deluded old man, you have lost your way!_ " He hollered when he was dragged to his feet.

Aerys stared after Brandon before he turned his attention to Ser Jaime Lannister, who stood glittering in his golden armour beside his throne, his hand set atop the hilt of his sword. " _Have Pycelle send word to Lord Rickard of his son's arrest, inform him of his crimes concerning the conspiracy of the murder of my son and that he must come to court to answer for such a monstrous betrayal._ "

Though he didn't show it, Jaime felt his heart stir within his chest at the command but nonetheless, he nodded. " _Yes, Your Grace._ "

* * *

She was in agony.

Her vision blurred as she tried to fight through the pain, hearing the doors to her room slam open and she heard raised voices, arms gripping her own tightly to pull her up. Blinking, fighting through the blur of alarm that was trying to settle over her, Eliana realised Thomos was still at her side.

"Tho... Thomos..."

Thomos lifted her into his arms to take her to her bed, "The Maester is coming, my Princess... Markas has gone to fetch your lady mother." He alerted her as he moved. "Everything will be fine, don't you worry, the babe will be fine and so will you."

"I don't want... Pycelle..." Eliana rasped out in pain, clutching his arm, her nails sinking deep into Thomos's skin but he barely flinched. "He shouldn't... don't let him... touch me."

Thomos nodded, glancing at Irraro who looked weary at the site unfolding before him. "Get Qyburn, the Princess prefers him to the Grand Maester. Quickly!" He ordered as the man fled, leaving him alone to comfort his Queen. "You need to calm yourself, my Queen, breath.  _Breath_."

"Lia?" A quiet voice called out.

His head snapping in the direction of the doors, Thomos's eyes widened when he saw that Obara had stumbled into the room, her eyes also wide as she noted the pool of blood upon the floor and running down Eliana's legs. "Little snake, you should not be here... go and find your father." Thomos dismissed her but the girl persisted.

"What's wrong - is it the babe?" She started forwards when Eliana let out a cry as a fresh wave of pain washed over her, noting that her body was cramping and she looked in agony. "You have to help her!"

"I am trying, Obara but I am not Maester!" Thomos roared, glowering at the girl as she shrunk back in shock at his outburst.

Glaring, Obara moved closer. "She's in pain! Help her!" The girl exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air, hoping Thomos would make the writhing of Eliana stop as he continued to hiss when her nails dug deeper into his arms.

The blood had already begun to stain the pristine sheets that only been replaced just after noon, infecting the silk to dye it swiftly as it continued to swim to meet the foot of the bed while Thomos became even more flustered than he already was, watching helplessly as his Queen writhed in pain before him.

He couldn't do anything.  _I'm no Maester._

"Lia!" Her mother's voice reached her ears as she burst into the room with a look of pure terror upon her face. Her hand enveloped her mouth as she squeezed her eyes shut, praying silently to the Gods, Old and News, that nothing was wrong with her grandchild - that the child would be okay. "Thomos... the babe shouldn't be here yet, it's too earlier."

Tucking his hair behind his ears as he made her comfortable on the bed, he glanced at Catelyn who made her way to her daughter's side but not before ushering Obara away, reminding the girl that it was no place for her to be. "I don't think he intends to wait, my lady, the babe is ready now." Thomos informed with a sudden hysteria in his voice, and it refused to subside when he saw Irraro return with Qyburn.

Taking a wet cloth into her hand, Catelyn pressed it to Eliana's forehead, watching as the water mingled with the sweat already swimming along her brow. "Hush, little wolf." She murmured as Qyburn approached the bed and rolled up his sleeves.

Eliana heard Qyburn say something to her but the pain that rocked her, made it impossible to hear the man, let alone focus. Only her mother's words seemed to reach her through the haze that tried to overwhelm her.

Stroking her head, Catelyn wiped the sweat that had gathered on her daughter's forehead, quaking in horror as she continued to rasp out short gasps. "You need to push, Lia... push, little wolf." Her mother urged in her ear, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as she looked to Thomos who was holding her up since she was far too weak to do so herself. "The babe will not wait because you say so."

Eliana shook her head, her face dripping wet with sweat and tears. "Mother... it's too... it's too soon..."

But Catelyn wouldn't listen to her, "Your son is not going to wait because you are not ready, and if not now, the babe may not survive."  _You may not survive_ , Catelyn had refrained from saying, knowing it would only upset her daughter if she mentioned such a thing.

Eliana knew what her mother wanted to say, all she had to do was listen to her voice and she knew, deep down inside of her she knew that she was right. If she didn't have the baby now, they would both likely die... and she couldn't do that. Gripping her mother's hand and Thomos's arm, she used them both to fight through the unimaginable pain, she drew in a deep breath as she looked to Qyburn, managing to finally focus to see him nod to the midwife beside him.

When the midwife said push, push she did. She pushed as hard as she could, howling and crying as the pain became unbearable but still she pushed through it, pausing only when told or when she grew too weak. The process continued for what felt like an eternity full of pain, blood, sweat and tears... and screams.

Obara rung the cloth and dropped it into the cool pail of water before passing it back to Catelyn so she could tend to Eliana's discomfort, aiding and calming her as she fought through the horror.  _Let the pup live, and Lia... Mother, let them live. I don't believe in you but Lia does, and she does not deserve to die and neither does her son,_ Obara prayed silently, squeezing her eyes shut tightly as she tried to block out her screams, flinching each time another erupted into the air.

However, Thomos still held her, allowing her to sink her nails into his flesh to the point where she drew blood that stained her fingertips while her mother whispered to her, told her she was strong and how brave she was, encouraging her. But despite Thomos's and her mother's comfort, in that moment, all she wanted was Oberyn... wishing it was him who was holding her.

"Eliana, you must push now." Qyburn's voice ruined her thoughts, bringing her out of her confused and lost state, cutting through her clouded thoughts to bring her back to reality. "Push hard now."

Her scream rippled through the air like a wolf's howl.

_I'm going to die._

Tears spilled down her face at the pain ripped through her, greater than she had ever experienced, her grip tightening on Thomos's arm but then she felt as thought something had left her body, and then after a heartbeat of silence she heard the wailing of a babe. Her baby. Opening her eyes in a flash, though she didn't recall shutting them, she looked in search for her baby.

"A son," Qyburn announced while he cut the cord, allowing the midwife to take the babe, clean him and wrap him in a blanket. "You have a son, Princess."

The pain was still radiating through her when the midwife laid her baby, her son, across her chest. She was still too weak to hold him properly but her mother helped, guiding her arms and smiling as she stared in love and awe at the child before them.

"He's beautiful, little wolf," Catelyn cooed in a whisper while Eliana merely stared at the babe lain across her chest, still crying and still flecked with blood but nonetheless, he was beautiful... she had never set eyes upon something so precious and...

She gasped as another wave of pain hit her from nowhere.

Upon witnessing it, the midwife removed her son, taking him away as Qyburn began to say something about... Eliana couldn't make it out as the pain took her, losing herself in its wrath. She panted like a dog and gasping for breath like a fish out of water, tears and sweat still rolling down her face as she felt herself growing gradually weaker while the pain burned through her like wildfire. Desperately she tried to focus on what was being said but things seemed to grow more and more clouded the more she tried. She could hear her son crying, she wanted him, wanted to hold him and soothe him... he needed her just as much as she needed him.

But the pain wouldn't cease and so, she continued to burn.

* * *

 _"I am Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, and Hand of the King,"_  His eyes struck hers, glistening as tears threatened to fall from those grey, sad eyes of his, her father's eyes.

" _I come before you to confess my treason in the sight of Gods and men. I betrayed the faith of my King and the trust of my friend Robert. I swore to protect and defend his children, but before his blood was cold I plotted to murder his son... And seize the Throne for myself._ "

The blade had been drawn from its sheath, the hiss of the metal on leather rung through the air as he made his way towards where he sat kneeling on his knees. The northerner looked once more to his daughter, then back at the crowd where he found his other child hidden behind the statue of Baelor though his grey eyes landed on her soon enough.

He lifted the blade over his head, and brought it down in a wide arc.

He turned and sheathed the blade, then bent down to take a firm hold of Ned Stark's fallen head by the hair, picking it up and holding it high for the crowd to see. He brought it next to Joffrey and knelt, offering it to the King as the grin plastered his face.

* * *

"Did... did you... you see that?" She gasped out, trying to meet Thomos's eyes but her vision was blurring even further and preventing her from doing so but she still tried, preserving to ask her question. "Did you see that?"

Thomos's brow deepened, "See what my Queen?" He asked her, moving to lift her into his arms.

Eliana felt herself being lifted but she couldn't be too sure, she blinked and found herself staring at Thomos who was carrying her. She smiled, "My father..." Why did he look so... afraid? She'd never seen him look afraid. Thomos was, as long as she could remember, calm and collected and he was strong... but why did he look afraid? "Tho... Thomos... what..." She touched her hand to his cheek though it trembled as she did so much like the man carrying her.

"Hush, my Queen." He spoke, moving quickly through the cool night air that suddenly blanketed them, and she realise they were outside for she could see the stars had settled in the sky... it looked so beautiful and serene but she didn't understand why he'd brought her outside - she wanted her son!

"It's going to be alright," Thomos whispered to her and the fear that had been on his face had been reflected in his words, striking fear into her heart. "It will be alright, Eliana."

 _My name_. It was the use of her name that told her something was terribly wrong.

It wasn't until the icy water chilled her skin once she was lowered into the pool of icy water that had been poured into the bath, did she jolt back to reality. Her tunic clung to her body and hugged her swollen stomach when she realised how wrong things were. She felt as though her entire body was set alight, burning alive like wildfire, screaming in agony as the water rushed to cool her.

Eliana looked to the sky, watching as the stars glittered magically above her, almost as if willing her to sleep. The coolness of the air made her smile softly before she let her head roll to her left where she found her mother sat with a shawl draped over her bare shoulders. "Mother..." She murmured in weakness, almost complaining like a small child, wanting nothing more than to return to her son.

Beside her, Catelyn smoothed her hair back as her fingers, which might as well have been icicles against her skin, caressing her cheek softly. "I'm sorry, Lia," She soothed, kneeling next to the tub, making sure she didn't disappear below the water. "I know it hurts, but we need to get the fever down, we have to stop it before it gets any worse. We... have to... to cool... to stop the... fever."

Eliana's brow dipped when she felt something drip onto her face, and she thought it was the water from the bath but when she glanced up at her mother, she saw the true source.

Catelyn was crying.

The mere site of her mother sobbing before her, caused her heart to leap into her throat and with all the strength she could muster, she lifted her arm and weakly wiped away the tears. "Mother..." Eliana murmured, smiling sadly, because she knew just as her mother did... if her fever didn't break she would die, here, in a bath. "My son..."

Catelyn sniffed and managed a small smile as she recalled the small bundle inside the room. "He's well, Lia..." She assured with a nod. "The midwife will see to him..."

"If I don't... make it..." Eliana gasped in pain, shivering from the chill of the water, leaning towards her mother like she was the only person who would keep her in the world of the living, that clinging to her would prevent the Gods from taking her when she wasn't ready. "You need... need to promise me..."

"Ssh, hush now... nothing is going to happen to you."

Eliana shook her head, wanting Catelyn to stop and listen to her, wanting her to know what to do if something were to happen. "You must promise me... to take care... of him... if Oberyn cannot... please, mother... promise me..."

"Eliana..."

"Promise me..." She gasped out. " _Promise me_."

* * *

Every movement he made, required more effort than usual, his limbs cried out as he struggled to stand, but still, he managed it. His bones had frozen within his body as he attempted to steady himself if to avoid falling. He'd dragged himself up, separating himself from his wife who still lay upon the floor dead. He could still hear his mother howling in futile attempts to save them. " _Mother._ " Robb rasped, his eyes finding hers as he begged her to stop with her worthless pleading that wasn't doing either of them any favours... nothing would help, nor stop his death or the fall of the North.

And then it all happened so quickly, " _The Lannisters send their regards..._ " Roose Bolton whispered in his ear before plunging the knife into his chest, right through his heart. The blade felt cold, it almost made Robb shiver as his knees buckled and soon he was falling, falling fast before his mother's eyes to hit the ground with a thump.

* * *

Eliana winced as the memory flickered through her mind, turning her attention to her mother.

She watched as more tears poured down her mother's face when she finally nodded and the last thing she could recall before she allowed darkness overcome her was her soft, fierce voice.

"I promise." Catelyn vowed, sniffing as more tears drizzled down her cheeks.

Smiling faintly, Eliana nodded and turned back to the stars that she shone down over her. "Thank... you..." Her voice trailed off as she spoke, her words ceasing to exist as her head fell against her mother's hand that was behind her.

" _Lia?!_ "

* * *

Hot bloodied was Rickard, a trait his eldest had inherited unfortunately, allowing his anger to speak for him rather than sense. His entrance into the Throne room was swift yet not unexpected, word had been sent of his arrival. " _What is the meaning of this? Where is my son!_ " He demanded with a howl.

Sitting upon his throne, Aerys tilted his head and gestured to the Red Keep. " _Right here..._ " He announced, which only added to Rickard's confused and fuelled the truth and belief that Aerys had indeed gone mad.

" _Don't play games with me._ " Rickard strode towards him, ignoring his remaining Kingsguard that lurked in the rays of the sun. " _What is he supposed to have done, Your Grace?_ "

His words made Aerys fly from his throne, hissing at the man before him. " _He's been conspiring to murder my heir and myself!_ " He seethed, bearing his teeth at the man below him, as if ready to truly take flight.

Rickard shook his head, refusing to believe such nonsense that was falling from that mad man's mouth. " _Brandon would do no such thing, Your Grace, he is fearful for my daughter, his sister - that is all._ " He pleaded with the man, knowing that his mind was lost and that the fool could do anything he wished because he was king, despite having gone mad.

The king, however, didn't look convinced by his words as his eyes narrowed on Rickard. The man was wearing armour, and for a reason Aerys knew. " _Why are you donned in armour, Lord Rickard... did you expect a fight?_ " Aerys noted as he raised an eyebrow in Rickard's direction, leaning forward in his seat to continue inspecting him from afar.

Shaking his head once again, Rickard gritted his teeth as he felt his patience wearing tirelessly thin. " _No, of course not, Your Grace._ " Rickard vowed with a slight bow of his head before he took a deep breath and another step forward. " _You say you want me to ransom you for my son's crime, what does this require?_ "

" _Your death... only death can pay for life..._ " Aerys grinned once more. " _I can't put my trust or faith in traitors._ "

He'd known all along of what Aerys had required, Rickard was not a stupid man and he was not a weak man either. " _I demand a trail combat if you wish me dead, I will die on my own terms._ " He announced, proudly, not caring if those around him sniggered. Any northerner would do the same, they would die fighting.

" _Very well._ " Aerys nodded.

Suddenly, Rickard was grabbed from behind, being dragged backwards. "What?! What is the meaning of this?" Rickard exclaimed in outrage as rope was strung around his body, before he was hauled into the air so he was dangling helplessly from the rafters of the throne room as he stared with a panicked gaze at the Pyromancers below him.

Reaching into the air, the verdant hands tried to grasp Rickard's leg, missing by a short distance as they continued to climb in the air, writhing, crackling and spitting.

" _Fire will be my champion, Lord Rickard!_ " Aerys declared, waving his hand while he laughed in triumph. " _Let's see how you fare._ "

The heavy wooden doors were hauled open as the city watch dragged a cramped and feeble-looking Brandon Stark into the room. " _Lord Stark..._ " Aerys greeted, though Brandon could barely see him through the foggy haze.

Brandon flinched at the obscene brightness flickering from within the throne room that made him jolt back by its ferocity, trying to make what had occurred since his wasn't until he glanced up did he see what had happened, causing him to gasp at the site before him. " _Father? Father..._ " His eyes widened as he caught sight of Rickard dangling from the rafters, having been strung up.

As the rope slid through their hands all the while Rickard fell towards the burning pyre of dancing verdant flames, as Rickard plummeted into the verdant hands.

" _Father! Father!_ " Brandon struggled against the men who held him back, trying to rip free from their grasp but failing.

" _Silence his caterwauling!_ " At his command, a leather cord was wrapped around his neck that was attached to a strangulation device pulled the leather cord taut, keeping Brandon restrained. " _Your father is unlikely to survive, though I suppose if you are the talented swordsman everyone believes you to be, you can save him. You'll have to hurry though, fire waits for none._ "

Before Brandon's feet they had lain a longsword just out of his reach, and knowing he had no other choice if he was to save his father, he began to struggle to grasp the weapon.

The screams of Rickard Stark filled the air as he writhed within in the flames while Brandon stretched forward, crawling forwards to grasp nothing but air as the cord around his neck tightened and tightened.

Eventually, Rickard's screams gradually died along with his son, who had collapsed in a heap on the floor as another gurgle of blood spilled over his lips to stain his beard when he finally stilled after his silent tremors faded away.

Once both bodies stilled, Aerys settled into his throne as a wide grin stretched across his face. " _How disappointing._ " Aerys cackled.


	48. Alaric

Catelyn stood at the large glass doors that led out to the balcony and gazed down at the beauty in her arms. " _The Father's face is stern and strong, his sits and judges right from wrong. He weighs our lives, the short and long, and loves the little children._ " Catelyn hummed in delight as a small smile graced her lips. " _The Mother gives the gift of life and watches over every wife. Her gentle smile ends all strife, and she loves her little children._ "

The babe stirred in her arms, reaching upwards and clasping down on her fingers as she continued to sing him to sleep, rubbing her index fingers against his cheek as he clutched her other fingers. " _The Warrior stands before the foe, protecting us where e'er we go. With sword and shield and spear and bow, he guards the little children._ " Catleyn continued with a fond smile, placing a kiss upon his head. " _The Crone is very wise and old and sees our fates as they unfold. She lifts her lamp of shining gold to lead the little children._ "

Glancing behind her, Catelyn stared as her daughter's breathing hitched while she laid motionless upon the bed, her eyes twitched every so often. Looking down to the bundle gathered in her arms, Catelyn cooed to the babe she held as he slept peacefully. " _The Smith, he labours day and night, to put the world of men to right. With hammer, plow and the fire bright, he builds for little children._ " Catelyn carried on humming, just as the sun's rays began to drift through the gaps between the drapes. " _The Maiden dances through the sky, she lives in every lover's sigh. Her smile teaches the birds to fly, and gives dreams to little children._ "

Despite being only a few hours old, Catelyn knew he would have his mother's hair and her eyes with his father's nose and ears but he was beautiful... so beautiful. "You are a handsome one, aren't you?" Catelyn hummed as she rocked the babe. "But you're going to need a name... a handsome name to match a handsome prince..."

Her head shot up when she saw the discomfort crossing her daughter's face as she still laid motionless upon the bed.

* * *

Theon grabbed Jon's tunic and shake him. " _You took that victory from me, bastard. You're no better than your damned mother..._  stupid whore." Theon growled, shoving him back, sneering.

" _Greyjoy!_ " Eliana shouted, galloping toward him on her house. She didn't see Jon bring his blade down against Theon's shoulder as hard as he could, watching him fall. In an instant, Jory was pulling Jon from Theon to prevent him from hitting Theon anymore. Jon was shouting, letting out a few curses out of anger.

Ser Rodrik pulled his practice sword from his hand and glowered at him. " _Get that padding off, Snow. Then, go somewhere to cool down, I don't care where!_ " He ordered, putting away the sword.

" _You didn't hear -_ " Jon started.

" _I heard boy, he had no right but you forget he's a Greyjoy. You've got your father's blood in ya and you may not have his name or have the same expectations as your siblings, though he and some of us expect better of you._ " Rodrik told the young lad. " _Go, now._ "

Jon stumbled back and moved out of the armoury. He couldn't believe that idiot, constantly taunting him. Before he knew it, a horse strode into his way followed by another. " _Brother, do you want to go riding in the Wolfswood with Robb and I?_ " Eliana asked the small boy of eleven. Jon looked up and smiled when he saw the warm look on his sister's face, his gaze moving to Robb who also wore a smile.

Shocked, he nodded and raced to the stables to ready his horse but stilled when he spotted that it was there beside his siblings. " _Jon, we've done the job for you... we figured you wouldn't have the patience to saddle it yourself today_ ," Robb called to him, his hand yanking the reins of his horse.

Jon easily climbed atop his horse and took the reins from his brother. " _Why are you doing this?_ " He asked, more to Eliana than to Robb. He knew Catelyn disliked them being around him but he didn't want to think about that.

She smiled even more and shrugged. " _I saw Greyjoy picking on you and Robb suggested that we should take your mind of that prick._ " She answered, getting a laugh from the two boys. " _Now... do you want to race to the Wolfswood?_ " She dared to ask.

Robb and Jon shared a look and nodded, galloping through the gates and down the worn path, leaving Eliana still in Winterfell's keep. " _That's just not fair!_ " She exclaimed, kicking her own horse into action and racing after them.

* * *

Turning to face Eliana, Catelyn frowned when he heard murmurs leaving her lips, and she knew she being subjected to the horrors of the past and what pained Catelyn the most was that she was unable to help. "Oh, Lia..." She whispered, rocking the babe gently.

* * *

The ride through the Wolfswood had been silent, and Eliana knew she would receive a punishment for the trouble she'd caused. " _Jory, take Robb and Jon back to Winterfell... I have got to teach my daughter a lesson._ "

Jory sent a regretful look Eliana's way but led the two lads away. " _Come now, little lords..._ "

" _Eliana,_ " Eddard called, staring straight ahead. His cold eyes trailed to his daughter, who stared at the water before them, terrified to meet his eyes. " _Eliana, I'm very disappointed in you._ " His words were harsh but true.

She sighed, " _I know._ "

" _You could have been killed!_ " Ned accused, wanting her to understand the seriousness of the danger she put herself in. " _You deliberately disobeyed me, when I warned you to not go riding alone! And what's worse, you put Robb and Jon in danger!_ "

" _They had ridden ahead, and when I arrived... I saw them... I was just trying to be brave like you._ " Eliana admitted, feeling the shame overwhelm her under the scrutiny of her father. " _I wanted to make you proud._ "

Ned shook his head. " _By going in search for Wildlings?_ " Ned questioned, kneeling to her height, his index finger reaching for her chin. " _Eliana, I'm only brave when I have to be. Being brave doesn't mean you go looking for trouble._ "

Eliana closed her eyes, shaking her head in disagreement and disbelief. " _But you're not scared of anything..._ " She insisted, wishing she could be like him, wishing she could be as strong and brave. But she never would.

" _I was today._ "

Her hands balled into fists. " _And I wasn't looking for -_ " She thought she'd miss heard her father, but when her eyes fell on his face she knew she had heard him right. " _You were?_ " Eliana let out quietly, her eyes wide.

" _Yes,_ " Ned admitted, looking down sadly. " _I thought I might lose you, sweetling._ "

She chuckled, reaching for his hand as they walked along together. " _I guess even Lords get scared, yes?_ " Eliana asked in intrigue, watching the grin cross her face.

Ned nodded, smiling softly. " _Mmm-hmm._ " He paused briefly, contemplating what he should say next but no words came.

" _But you know what?_ "

His eyes narrowed at her. " _What?_ "

" _I bet those Wildlings were even more scared._ "

He laughed, unable to stop himself when her grin emerged. " _That is because nobody messes with your father! Come here, you!_ " He suddenly grabbed her and pulled her into his arms and poked her playfully, tickling her sides as she tried to escape. Ned let out a laugh when she slipped from his grasp and ducked.

" _You're too slow._ " She mocked, dodging his hands as he tried to grab her.

" _Do you think so, sweetling?_ " And at that, Eddard pulled into his chest again and laughed at her struggle.

" _Father?_ " Eliana asked as he placed her atop his horse.

He nodded, looking at her as he reached for the reins. " _Hmm?_ "

She looked troubelled and frightened all of a sudden. " _We're friends?_ " She inquired, peering down at him shakily.

Ned frowned, " _Of course we are._ " He replied, unsure of why she was asking such an odd question.

Eliana nodded in confidence. " _And we'll always be together right?_ " She narrowed her eyes.

All emotion disappeared from his face and he sighed, " _Eliana, let me tell you something that my father told me._ " He paused, seeing the starry night sky. " _Look at the stars. The great rulers from our house of the past look down on us from those stars._ " She kept silent. " _So whenever you feel alone just remember that those rulers will always be there to guide you... and so will I. As my father is, as my brother and my sister. And one day your mother will be as well. We are all with you, we are one._ " Ned concluded, sending her a small smile only meant for his daughter; his special smile.

* * *

With a gasp, Eliana flew into the air with a violent jolt, meeting temporary blindness as she did. Blinking away the haze that still lingered over her, Eliana glanced about the room as she tried to subside her heaving chest and shallow breaths to a normal pace.  _You almost died... again._  The thought buzzed through her mind, terrifying her as her eyes fell upon the shadow lurking near the window.

If not for Thomos and her mother, if they had not taken her outside in a chilled bath she would never have the chance to hold her son, to hear the tiny he sounds he made and to see his cyan blue eyes and the auburn curls he already possessed... but she wanted to feel his fingers wrap around her own. The mere thoughts nearly made her heart stop when they crossed her mind.

Rising from her bed, though still weak, she carefully moved towards where her mother stood - mindful of the direwolf lounging over the floor as he continued towards her mother as she cradled him close.

Catelyn had obviously sensed her presence and immediately moved to hand him to her, and she watched as the smile crept onto her face at the sight of her son. "He looks so much like you, Lia." Catelyn admired warmly, watching as her grandchild made a soft sound.

With a sigh, Eliana carefully shifted him so she could undo her tunic, settling so he could nurse. "Has Oberyn..." She trailed off, not able to complete the sentence, her voice breaking as it betrayed her.

Wincing, Catelyn shook her head. She hadn't seen Oberyn since the other morning, and she knew her daughter worried for him. "No, not yet," Catelyn admitted to Eliana's disappointment.

Eliana glanced down, her jaw clenching as she recalled their argument that had led to the birth of their child. She knew Oberyn's anger was not to be tested, yet she knew her anger was dangerous at best but she loved him. She loved her husband. Smiling down at her son, nursing easily and soundly, she moved to press a quick kiss upon his head.

"He needs a name, Lia."

Nodding, she agreed. "I know, mother but I don't know what to name him... Oberyn suggested we should name him after father or Robb... but I couldn't bring myself to do that. I don't want to look at my child and grow sad." She whispered in awe and thought, losing herself in his face. "Personally, I always liked the name Alaric... it's a strong name, a noble name."

Smiling, Catelyn stroked her head, though she frowned when she saw the look in her eyes. "What troubles you?" She wondered out of interest, knowing something was bothering Eliana.

Eliana looked to her mother, a passive look on her face. "I dreamt of father... again." She spoke with a deep sigh. "It appears he seems to be haunting my dreams, I have failed him - that's why he haunts me."

Catelyn shook her head, not wanting her to believe such things. "No, you haven't. If anything, you have made him proud." She pleaded with her daughter, begging her to believe her words, knowing she pushed all the blame onto herself when it wasn't her fault.

"I have disappointed him, I promised revenge and what revenge have I delivered? Poisoning a boy?" Eliana almost proclaimed if not for the babe in her arms. "What have I  _actually_  done for  _them_? Nothing, mother, I have failed."

Her words disturbed her son, drawing her attention to him as he laid in her arms. "My little pup," She whispered as the door to her chamber opened, the soft sound of feet telling her it wasn't Oberyn. Almost as soon as the door had opened, he'd stopped nursing and Eliana knew she wouldn't get him back on her breast for a while and instead, she maneuvered him to rest against her shoulder, moving her tunic back into place.

"Hello, little snake." Eliana greeted Obara as the babe snuggled against her shoulder, content at the position she had placed him into.

Obara smiled as she looked at Alaric, moving towards where Eliana and Catelyn were stood. "Can I hold him, Lia?" The girl asked as she smiled at the babe, though she confessed herself surprised when Eliana's willingly passed him to her.

Tentatively, Obara reached out and offered her hand to Alaric, who immediately clutched at her fingers, his grasp strong for so small a babe. "He'll be strong," Obara said with certainty, careful to not startle him, not wanting to upset her brother. "Like father." She looked at Eliana. "Like you."

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Eliana smiled at the little snake. "He will be strong like you too, Obara, and Nymeria and Tyene and Sarella. You will all help make him strong."

"We all will help to ensure that the little Wolf Prince grows up strong."

* * *

Gliding into their chambers, he found the windows and balcony had been opened so that a soft breeze brought in cool air from the sea. The room was serene and warm when his eyes finally found her, lying upon the lounger with that beast of hers curled around her feet at its foot. Her eyes were closed and she appeared to be asleep and, normally, he would have turned and left, leaving her to her rest, but he remained where he was.

She was much paler than he recalled her to be, he couldn't help but think she was ill, but Oberyn knew that wasn't the case. He would've been sent word if she'd been ill... but he'd rode so hard upon his sand steed that he found himself out of the city. "Eliana?" He stepped closer towards her.

He watched as she drew in a deep breath, glancing over at him, surprise lighting those icy eyes of hers. They shared a stare with one another for a long, silent moment before she cleared her throat to speak, but before she was able, a soft cry broke the silence.

Oberyn observed, frozen in shock as she rose, weakly and gathered an infant from the cradle near their bed. Soon enough, the babe fell silent as she held the tiny being to her chest, her eyes never leaving Oberyn as she did. "This is Alaric," Her words reached him with a small smile, the babe gurgling as his tiny hands tried to grasp at her hair as it hung over her shoulder. "Your son."

Oberyn tried to speak, but no words left his mouth, and instead he imitated the gasping for air action like a fish out of water. But he was grateful when the smile of his wife only widened as she looked down at her, no, their son. That almost porcelain doll in her arms was theirs? He was stunned, bewildered... only the day before his wife still had his child within her and now he was out in the open.

A miracle, a magnificent and triumphant welcome.

He could feel the pride surging through him at the sight of his son, knowing that he and Lia had made such a delicate but robust being; Alaric would be fierce like his mother and deadly like his father.

"It appears your father is at a loss for words, little wolf." She cooed to the baby, who Oberyn could now see. He looked so very much like Eliana; faints curls of auburn hair and with tiny cyan eyes that glistened. "For once in his life, he has nothing to say, which I think would bring delight to your Uncle Doran."

"You..." Oberyn trailed off, trying to calm his sudden rush of thoughts, stepping closer to his wife and his son. His wife peered up at him, finding her gaze to be just as strong and fierce as it had been the day they'd met. "Why did you not send someone to find me?" He questioned, a desperate look invading his eyes.

Sighing, Eliana gave a soft shrug as she continued to rock Alaric. "Because you had stormed off in a fit of rage, Oberyn." Alaric cooed and soon she was smiling down at him before looking back up at her husband. "And... and to be truthful, I couldn't bear to look at you after what you said to me." She paused briefly, her eyes flickering to the floor momentarily. "Here."

Stunned, Oberyn stared wide-eyed.

Easily handing Alaric over to him, he instinctively maneuvered his arms, cradling his son to his chest, having years of experience int he art of soothing his children. Glittering icy eyes peered up at him as Alaric made soft sounds, his tiny hands fisting the fabric of Oberyn's tunic. Love. He loved him, his son. The immediate feeling of love, the love for his son... whom he would love forever and protect with his life.

Looking back to Eliana, Oberyn found his wife had settled to watching him and their son, a small smile gracing her face. "Alaric is a strong name, and you will be strong, my Prince." Oberyn announced, allowing his son to grip his hand in comfort. Oberyn found Elaian's eyes and smiled at her. "I love you."

Those three words never failed to stir something within her and soon she found herself even wider than she thought possible. "I love you, too." Eliana repeated, leaning towards him and planting her lips upon his own in a chaste kiss.


	49. Venom

His sister's laughter reached his ears before he opened his eyes to see her striding across his chambers to drag open his drapes to allow the cool morning breeze to ripple through and greet him immediately, sending goose flesh up his arms and bare chest. "What are you doing..." Jaime muffled into his sheets, rolling over as he wiped the sleep free from his eyes.

Wiping his eyes, he sat up and followed his sister as she danced across his room, freeing it from its dark slumber. "Have you not heard?" She sang to his dismay and distaste while he winced at her tone.

"Heard what exactly?"

Cersei threw his a glance, her face contorting into a smirk as the realisation hit him. " _Oh..._ " She nodded in understanding as a smirk was pulled across her face at his futility before her. "Your dog gave birth late in the night..."

Jaime's eyes widened at the information, shock striking him as he comprehended what she was telling him. "Lia?" He whispered in marvel, trying to process what she was telling him. She'd had the babe...  _isn't it too soon?_  The horror hit him then, the panic that something was wrong with her... she wouldn't have given birth that early if something wasn't wrong. "Is she all right? Did -"

Scoffing, his sister threw him a glance over her shoulder. "I don't know,  _why should I care?_  And why do you?" She demanded, turning to face him fully in that moment, anger lacing her words like venom but Jaime knew it was all bark and no bite, like it always had been. Soon enough she was laughing at him, reminding Jaime of all the times she used to laugh with him but they were all forgotten and shut away into oblivion. "You think now that her little rat's out of her,  _she'll what?_  Welcome you with open arms and allow you into her bed, that she'll let you fuck her?" Cersei pressed, stalking towards him suddenly. "What was she like anyway? Was she cold, frozen... a White Walker, perhaps?"

He could feel the fury boiling within him, and he swore he could question his birth, seeing as those he should have been born a Baratheon rather than a Lannister because all he seemed to feel was fury being ignited within him. But what he surprised him most, was that he didn't care that she knew he'd bedded Eliana, a Stark - he couldn't care less.

"Jaime... I know you fucked her, that beast, that's why I haven't let you near me..." She explained plainly, throwing a pair of trousers in his direction that had been thrown over the lounger in the room. "I don't want to smell of wet dog, but I know you want her." Her eyes glistened in amusement, recognising that she'd cornered him where he couldn't escape, no matter how much he tried. "Even I know you're not as deluded to believe something like that...  _oh_ , but you did think she would welcome you with open arms."

"Don't call her that," He trailed off while pulled on the trousers in a struggle, shimmying them up his legs until they settled just below his hips before he was barely able to tie them successfully. Jaime's eyes met his sister's briefly as he continued. "She is kinder than anyone I have ever known in my life, she has more honour and justice than those in power are willing to give." He hissed, reaching to pull on a tunic and giving up after failing to tie it. "She is revered throughout the Seven Kingdoms unlike yourself. The realm loved her father, and in turn, they love her and she returns that love."

"Since when did you become a love sick fool might I ask? Where's  _my_  brother?  _Where's my Jaime?_ " Cersei raised an eyebrow at him in disgust at what she was witnessing, seeing the downfall of her wondrous lover whom she had given up everything, turn against her and into the arms of the enemy. "She's a harlot, look how quickly she moved from you to Prince Oberyn."

Jaime turned his back on his sister, picking up his boots to pull them on his feet. "Stop it." He bit out, knowing that Cersei was only saying all of it out of spite and because he was no longer hers and that he felt at home in the arms of someone else other than his sister, that someone being a Stark.

"What?" Her eyes followed him as he moved around his chamber to retrieve his scabbard that held his sword that he couldn't even wield properly. "Now that a Stark has shown you a little attention, you want her? You want her instead of me, your sister, your lover?" She howled with laughter when he didn't reply but on the inside, she was fizzling with rage, and she had to refrain from allowing her hands to shake at the mere thought of losing him to that whore. "You cannot be serious... Jaime, she can't give you what I can give you, we're meant to be you and me, we're..."

He turned and looked at her then, making her startle and jump back in surprise at the action and leaving her heart racing. "No!" He roared with his teeth beared, his only fist clenched and the skin at his neck stretched as he tensed the muscles beneath. "We were never meant to be, what we've done- what we did was sickening and what still never fails to surprise me is that you're only thinking of yourself as normal," Jaime growled out bitterly, closing his eyes to hold in the anger threatening to betray him from the inside. "You have just lost your son, our son!"

"He was never your son, you were never there for him when he needed you." She sobbed immediately when the subject fluttered to Joffrey, her son... her darling son. "You were never a father to him, you never loved him like I did."

Jaime didn't bother replying and instead simply observed as she sobbed harder and harder. No matter what she said, Joffrey was his son and he had his own little memories to remember him by, all the secret smiles they'd shared when he was a babe, and not even Cersei could take that away with her words. " _Your son_ ," He re-phrased for her benefit, seeing no point in arguing with her over that because to some extent, Jaime knew she was right; he'd never been a father. "But you've sauntered here, to your brother, in a hope that I would what fuck you so the pain would go away, yes?"

"Jaime..."

Rolling his eyes, Jaime was barely capable of preventing himself from shouting at the best of times but however, failed to do so then. "GET OUT!" He shocked himself as well as his sister as he proclaimed his wishes but Jaime didn't know he truly had it in him to rise against his sister and after all these years... it felt wonderful to watch her shrink back in fear. It felt marvelous to finally hold power over her after all those years

"Jaime, you're my brother." She all but whispered.

Clearing his throat, Jaime's gaze darkened considerably in those few moments as he glowered at her from the door. "I'm glad you've noticed, anyone else may have thought differently when faced with a situation such as that. I could have sworn you thought I was your lover not less than a few moments ago. Some toy who used to give you pleasure when you needed it but not anymore Cersei." He paused momentarily, hauling open his door with some failure which came with the embarrassment of coming to terms with only using a left hand for everything. "I know better."

That roused a laugh from within Cersei, though she barely managed to make it heard. "Do you... is that why you're running with your tail between your legs to another woman? A married woman!" She probed with intrigue and betrayal, her knuckles turning white as her fingernails dug into the skin of her palms.

What his sister had said wasn't a lie... with Eliana, he could forget all the complications in his life but every time he wishes for that to happen, it never did - in fact, the opposite always occurred instead. "Yes, I have every intent on going to visit Lia, because she doesn't use me for pleasure unlike yourself." Bickering had never been his forte, Jaime would always prefer to fight it out but he wasn't in the position to fight anyone with one hand.

"You think the both of you are friends?" Cersei pressed, intrigued with how far he was willing to go in him... familiarising himself with Eliana Stark. It left her feeling disorientated. She saw in them, the fire rise within him, the devotion evident of his face... he did love her, and as much Cersei would try to ignore it, she knew it would eventually but that didn't mean she would give up so easily. "Her husband wants you dead, and you're giving him more reasons to do so...  _you're mad_."

"I must be," Jaime muttered as he strode through the door and down the deserted corridor to hear it slam in the distance.

Had he finally done it? Had he finally took it upon himself to rip himself free of Cersei's spell? It couldn't be that simple to do, if it were, he would have done it a long time ago... would she really let him go so easily and especially without a fight, too? He'd never felt so much freedom, it felt as though an entire burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

He was so lost in his thoughts, that he didn't realise he'd occupied a partner: Catelyn. She had soundlessly swept to fall into pace with him as he strode along absent-mindedly. It wasn't until she spoke, he was hauled from his thoughts. "You're playing a dangerous game, Lannister." He jumped when her voice reached him, the sudden merge of speech flowing from his side to startle him.

Jaime stifled a laugh and scratched the back of his head as he became nervous all of a sudden, for whatever reason, he didn't know. "Lady Catelyn, I trust you slept well?" He replied curtly, holding a civil tongue which seemed inevitable as his sister had put him in a foul mood. "Forgive me, that was a stupid question... of course you didn't sleep at all." He cursed himself for being so reckless, seeing as the tears brimmed in the depths of her eyes yet they didn't fall. "How is Lia and the babe?"

"She was right about you."

Frowning, Jaime glanced to his side to look at her, as she linked her arm through his. "Right about what?" He inquired, confused by what Catelyn had said.

"You're a changed man..." She spoke as she observed him silently, tilting her in intrigue at Jaime. "I didn't believe her at first, thinking you Lannisters were all the same manipulative creatures. But I see it now, I saw when you were running towards us from the darkness, hollering through the night." Catelyn explained, turning her attention ahead as they continued along together. "The Jaime Lannister that tormented me in my son's camp is no longer who you are."

He didn't reply, not because he didn't want to... but because he didn't know how to, it was odd being told you were changed and in a good way which rarely often occurred for him. Since when did Starks favour Lannisters? It wasn't right... Catelyn couldn't like him, he couldn't allow that because that would mean he was forgiven and he didn't deserve that luxury after all the grief that had bestowed her life. "I still pushed your boy from that window."

He felt immediately felt Catelyn tense at his words, her body turned from the river to solidify into ice. No matter how long ago it happened, it would always be a sensitive subject because Bran was her special boy. "... I- I know." Her voice was quiet and muffled as she spoke, showing that entire ordeal had orchestrated her life after it so much. As much as it pained her, she knew it would be better if she didn't think of Bran and instead answered his earlier question. "Lia and the babe are both alive and that is what matters."

Satisfied that Catelyn would always hate him for he did to her boy, Jaime let out a soft sigh. "Good." He approved with a nod of his head, "And what have they named the little tyke?" He wondered innocently, his interest piqued.

She smiled widely then. "Alaric."

Jaime nodded once again, liking the name that met his ears... it was a strong name for a Prince, that much he could agree on. "A handsome name, indeed. So how does it feel to be a grandmother?" He didn't fail to notice the sour look that crossed Catelyn's brow at his comment, rousing a chuckle from within him as her reaction had successfully amused him as he hoped it would.

"It's rather odd... it seems like only yesterday I had given birth to Lia. How time flies."

" _How time flies_ ," Jaime repeated to himself, seeming lost in thought once again to Catelyn beside him.

Catelyn cleared her throat and tightened her grip on his arm. "How is your sister, by the way?" She drew his attention back to her with a question she hoped he would answer.

He did but there was no good news to shed upon the matter of his sister,  _was there ever any?_  "She's not at all well, neither is she coping as she seems to take it all out on me, that's why I'm going for a well-earned walk if I am to evade her wrath that she uses when she tries to pursue me." It was true, whenever something when wrong in his sister's life she would offload all the fault onto him, and being her brother he shouldn't question it.

"Lia will brighten your mood," Catelyn affirmed with a faint smile and a knowing glance as she and Jaime came to a halt in their walking. "So, if you want to see her alone, you'll have to be quick and I mean it. You have caused too much pain for my daughter and that babe of hers, her marriage is fractured due to the accusations that Oberyn's has thrown her way." The look on his face told her the entire story, and she confessed herself not surprised. "Don't bother trying to deny your true intentions. Oberyn will be back shortly and the gardens are not that far."

Jaime shook his head at her, raising his hand and gilded limb in defense. "I only intend to see how she and the babe are doing."

"Then you'd best hurry."

* * *

Obara had heard her father was in search for her that morning, but she didn't want to speak with him nor did she want to see his face, not after he left Lia all alone, not after Lia almost died without him there. She needed to occupy herself with something that morning, and so turned to practising by herself, twirling her spear around in the training yard, if meant she would calm down.

Within the shadows, he smiled as he watched her, feeling his love for his eldest run wild within his chest, and then he drew a deep breath and stepped out into the sun. However, before he got too close he found himself dodging the spear head of Obara's spear as it fluttered, far too closely, in front of his face. He froze, eyes trailing up to his eldest's face to see the rage wrapped within her black eyes, spotting the fury in her stance and her grip on her weapon. Soon she twirled her spear, and let it fall to rest against her shoulder.

Oberyn knew it would be a miracle to earn forgiveness from her, but he was willing to give it a try. "I heard you assisted in the birth of your brother... it seems your skill with the spear isn't the only gift you possess, though I do believe your arm still needs work." He noted, seeing the discomfort on her face, knowing his words weren't helping the situation at all.

"You left."

He nodded in agreement, knowing he should have stayed. "I know, and for that, I apologise... I never meant to flee, Obara, especially at a moment like that."

"You were needed here." Obara huffed out angrily.

As he stared into her eyes, he saw the same rage and fire that flashed within his wife's and for a moment it was hard to recall that Obara didn't bear the flesh and blood of Eliana, despite how they shared the same fierceness. He had always thought he was good with words, that he knew precisely how to use them and manipulate them but even Oberyn knew nothing he said to his daughter would make a blind bit of difference, however, he didn't want to tell Obara the true nature of why he had left or that he'd caused her early labour. And so, drawing a deep breath he moved to pick up one of the practice spears that laid a few feet away from him, spinning it effortlessly, lightly, above his head before looking to his daughter.

"If you are so angry, Obara, then I beg of you to take that anger out on me, seeing as thought I'm the one who is the cause of it."

Her eyes flashed once again but she didn't move, despite her evident rage, she hesitated while she observed her father. He wasn't known as the Red Viper for nothing and she was familiar with his reputation and even though she was his daughter, it still made her wary. But she was too angry, and anger made people do stupid things, not matter how sensible they could be. Taking that in mind, Obara still proceeded with her attack, letting her anger to all the thinking.

The movement was easy for Oberyn to block, parrying it while showing his years of experience of how to counter each attack that was being thrown his way. Obara wasn't thinking clearly, letting her anger lead her rather than her head. She was angry at him for leaving, for abandoning Eliana when she needed him most. He spared with his eldest, letting the fight continue for a little longer until he twirled and used the shaft of his spear to knock her off her feet, sending her spear rolling across the ground and out of her reach.

Glowering up at him, Obara gritted her teeth as he towered over her.

"I know you are angry with me," He said but her expression didn't shift at his words. "Obara..."

"Where were you!" Oberyn had never heard his daughter shout in such a way before and he felt his heart deflated within his chest when the tears finally ruptured as she furiously tried to blink them away. "Lia needed you! She nearly died!" Climbing to her feet, Obara continued to glower at him even as the tears spilt over her cheeks. "She needed you; she could have died, all alone and scared... and you weren't here with her! It's your job to protect her!"

His daughter had almost lost someone she wanted to be like, someone she loved and saw as her mother and it was natural she was terrified for her when Oberyn hadn't been there like he should have. Obara was still young, and she couldn't be so strong all the time... she had been frightened that Eliana almost died and then chose to shift the blame for her weakness onto the only person she could, Oberyn.

He let his own spear clatter against the ground while he stepped towards Obara, kneeling to pull her against his chest into a tight embrace even as she struggled against him, punching his chest as if trying to squirm free. "I'm not a baby!" She shouted over and over, her punches coming swifter and harder.

Still, he held her tighter as her fists continued against her chest, wanting her to tire. He could feel his tunic becoming damp as her tears soaked through the fabric while he gently ran his hand over her hair. "Hush... now, Obara," He whispered as she sobbed, her face half-buried in his shoulder, her body shaking. "Let it out."

"She needed... you... and you... you weren't... here..."

Oberyn nodded against her head, "I know, and I'm here now, Obara." He listened as she continued to cry, her hands now clinging to him rather than beating him for which he was grateful, her face buried in his shoulder. Oberyn knew Obara wouldn't forgive him immediately, that it would take time for her to forgive him but he didn't mind waiting.

* * *

It was a risky decision, choosing to venture from the safety of his chambers to seek out Eliana if meant he could at least speak with her. When he'd knocked on her door, he hadn't expected her to let him in willingly, neither had he known she would welcome him without insult... and neither did he know he would recite he usual confession of his love for her.

And neither did it please Eiana to hear it again.

"I am not yours to love." She drew in a deep breath, if wanted to retain any control, but also not wanting to risk shouting again because it would surely disturb Alaric who was sleeping in his cradle. "You cannot say that to me anymore."

Jaime stepped towards her then. "I am from one of the most powerful houses in all of Westeros, I could have your marriage dissolved and then you could marry me like you meant to." His hand found her own as he curled his fingers around it as if willing her to believe him. "We can be married..."

It took her a few seconds to react before she pushed him away from her, glancing at him as though he'd sprouted a second head and stepping back just a little further. "Now you're just being plain stupid." She accused with a shake of the head. "You cannot dissolve my marriage, Jaime... as much as you'd like to think you could, it would never happen."

Jaime smirked, much to Eliana's disdain. "Of course I can, Lia, I'm a Lannister... my father's the most powerful man in all of Westeros, if it concerns legacy, he'll drop everything."

She shook her head once more. "I won't let you do such a thing, to steal me from my husband and my family? You already caused one war which left my father dead, my brothers dead... and you're already willing to cause another?"

"Lia..."

But she would have none of it. "You are not dissolving my marriage just to suit the needs of yourself, I won't have it." She snarled.

Relief flooded her when she heard the unhappy wail ripple from her son's cradle, she reacted immediately and crossed the room to his cradle, reaching down to lift him into her arm, rocking him gently. "Hush now, little wolf... Mama's here, shh."

Turning slightly, Eliana saw the look of betrayal on Jaime's face as he caught sight of the infant in her arms, and she couldn't help but feel gleeful at his reaction.  _I was never yours, nor will I ever be._ She hummed the Song of the Seven as she continued to rock her son until he'd once again calmed, however, his hands still clutched the fabric of her dress while his head remained buried in her shoulder.

"Ser Jaime," Eliana begun, still rocking her son as she turned to face him fully. "I would like you to meet my son, Alaric Martell, a Prince of Dorne."

Jaime stared at the babe, unable to tear his gaze away. Alaric was the North. From what Jaime could see, he had faint auburn curls upon his head and his complexion was pale in contrast to Oberyn's despite having being graced with his father's nose but nothing more. The babe refused to open his eyes but he knew they would be the blizzard he adored with every aching beat of his heart.

When looked up at her once again, he sighed in defeat, knowing there was no point arguing something that had no use being argued in the first place... what could he say? Eliana had birthed a child that wasn't his... and it wasn't his place to voice his opinions. "Lia..." He didn't truly know what made him ask her such a thing but he, himself was surprised by the answer he received. "May I hold him?"

Wordlessly, she handed him to Jaime as he rested the babe against his right arm. "He's so beautiful..." He whispered, looking down at Alaric with a soft gaze and smiled warmly before offering his hand to the babe who immediately grabbed at his fingers, making Jaime chuckle. "He looks so much like you," Jaime spoke as his smile grew at the sight of the babe, who still grabbed at his fingers. "I can't see a single trace of that serpant- "

" _Don't..._ "

It infuriated her when he couldn't stop himself from saying any snide comments that successfully angered her when they fell from his lips. He just couldn't seem to help himself, no matter how much Eliana wished he would... she knew he would always hold a grudge over Oberyn, for as long as she was his. She drew in a deep breath, biting her lip to keep herself from shouting at her former betrothed. "Please do not refer to my husband as a serpent, Jaime. Neither will you mention it in front of my son."

Jaime bowed his head in silence, knowing what he had said was wrong of him. "You've become more venomous, Lia." He commented dryly, turning his attention to the babe who still sat in his arms.

"Jaime, my bark and bite are both hazardous when concerning the ferocity of venom... " Eliana replied, stroking her son's cheek with her index finger, smiling broadly when he cooed at her. "You know that you've witnessed it enough times."

Silence soon loomed over the chamber until the door to her chambers opened and Oberyn glided in swiftly with a look of silent fury withered across his features when he caught sight of Jaime standing with his son in his arms. "It's odd, Lord Commander," Oberyn began with a dark look about him. "To find you in my wife's chambers alone." The two men glared at one another and Eliana rolled her eyes.

Closing his eyes, Jaime clenched his jaw in irritation. "I am visiting a dear friend, that is all... I have plans later to visit my brother in the dungeons, and I wanted to see how Lia and the babe were doing." It was a lie but Jaime had to make it look like visiting Lia wasn't his own intentions that day, that Tyrion was the main cause of his visit.

Sneering, Oberyn stepped towards him. "Did you even try to stop your father as he ordered his men to rape and murder a Princess and then sanctioned the killing of her innocent children?" He hissed, his eyes taking the form of slits as he voice dripped with venom. "Or were you too busy cleaning the King's blood off your sword?"

Eliana closed her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek at her husband's words, knowing he was still searching for vengeance for what happened to his sister and her children, and she didn't blame him  _at all_. The best vengeance is always patient, and well-planned.

"That is what happens in war, in every war... there are casualties and I apologise greatly that Elia and her children were treated ruthlessly during the sacking, had I known... t- tell me Prince Oberyn... who would've carried out the deed of killing Aerys if I had not?" Jaime spat, glowering at him as he still held Alaric in his arms. "I have lived with the repercussions for most of my life, it haunts me...  _Kingslayer_ ,  _Oathbreaker_... do you not think I've heard it all?  _Do you not think I know what I am?_ "

Oberyn chuckled, the dark tone still evident in his voice as he spoke. "Do you expect me to honestly think that you would disobey your father's directive?" His gaze narrowed dangerously as he stared at Jaime. " _You were doing your duty as a Lannister_."

Alaric then chose to let out a soft whine, alerting himself to the tension within the room and Oberyn immediately surged forward to take him from Jaime and tucking him against his chest, starting to rock him gently within his arms. He reached out to rub his cheek before talking softly to him. "There, there little pup," He cooed to his son, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead.

Oberyn's voice was all Alaric needed to hear before he settled back down, snuggling further into his father's chest while Oberyn's eyes trailed to Jaime. "You're still here?" He pressed with silent fury, titling his head in confusion at the still man before him.

Jaime looked like he was going to argue with Oberyn, tell him he wasn't prepared to leave because he didn't like his company. But he didn't and instead have Eliana a soft look followed by a nod before he turned on his heel and retreated towards the door where he soon fled the room.

Eliana waited until she heard the door shut behind the man before she let out a sigh she'd been holding back for a long while and ran a hand over her face in her agitation. "The futility of men will never cease to infuriate me." She glanced at her husband, who had arched an eyebrow at her words which only annoyed her further. "You know what I mean."

* * *

Even a halfwit knew not to approach a mother and her pup without announcing their arrival or at least without caution. Unlike the Faceless men, Westerosi assassins were clumsy and often carried out haggard jobs that never ended well however, there were a mere few who could prevail with success.

The chamber was silent as he entered, glancing around wearily before edging closer as he took in the gentle glow of the candles and breeze that danced around his naked face, tickling his chin. From what he could see, it was dead in there with no movement to be concerned about but suddenly, a gurgle attracted his attention, his eyes flickering over to the corner of the chamber where there lied a cradle.

Glancing around him, he had to be certain he was alone if he had any chance of surviving and from what he could tell, he was. Dropping his hand to his waist, he pulled free his dirk that had been sat rather comfortably at his side and started towards the cradle.

He hadn't expected to freeze in guilt or remorse at the sight of the infant fussing within the woolen blankets he'd been cocooned it, however it was when the babe's eyes struck his that his blood ran cold at the sight of the beauty before him and finally he question his duty. Though the thought of Lannister gold restored the duty and soon he pushed through the guilt that threatened to discourage him.

It would be a quick death, a painless but well-awaited debt.

Raising the dirk high in the air, ready to bring it down upon the infant's neck, he didn't catch the padding of paws sound behind him over the babe's gurgling that continued to sound from the cradle as he towered over it.

It was when a growl rippled through the warm haze that the dirk dropping in height while the man slowly turned around to see a great snarling beast stood a few feet away from him with its teeth beared and icy eyes trained upon his form. He'd been told about the beast, of course, to be wary of it and to take it out however, the beat was bigger than he'd anticipated, far bigger and that worried him.

He was a thin man with hardly any strength behind him, not meant for fighting beast and instead made for moving in the shadows to carry out his work but he knew that if he made any movement towards the cradle, the beast would attack. "Easy, boy." He raised his hands, slowly shifted forwards on his feet as a smirk etched across his face.

But the beast let another growl fall from its mouth before it lept into the air and charged towards the man holding the knife, building momentum until its jaw finally latched around his arm to bring the man to the floor.

The pain wasn't immediate, he barely felt the teeth sink into his flesh and twist the blade free from his grasp as he writhed upon the ground, howling in discomfort as he clutched his arm and tried to kick the beast away while it continued towards him still. "No! Get back, I say! Get back!" He cried in hysteria, his heart beating ten to the dozen.

Suddenly, the beast retreated and sat, its eyes never leaving the face of the assassin as he stared in disbelief and shock when the beast simply sat quietly, thinking it had heeded his pleas but that had not been the case.

The sound of boots against the tiled floor rung out through the chamber, causing the man to glance to his left in bewilderment. "You were a threat to his mistress's son..." The man realised who he was watching walk towards himself immediately, he wasn't stupid, he'd seen her many a time before. "He was doing his job as were you."

The look Eliana Stark wore was murderous yet unknown as she approached him gradually, her features all set in straight lines as she regarded the man before her with distaste, watching as his gaze flickered to her sword sat in her hand. "Who paid you to murder my son?" She asked after a while of silence, tilting her head as she continued to watch the man writhing upon the floor.

She knew asking him to betray his employer's identity would never work, but she would get him to divulge the information even if he wasn't willing to give it to her, she only wished she could have done the same with the assassin that tried to murder her brother... she shuddered at the memory and watched as he shook his head which didn't surprise in the least. "I thought as much."

Crouching beside the man, Eliana inspected his wound and sighed at the sight of it as blood trickled down his arm and into the pool below. "If you tell me, I will be merciful and I promise so, I keep my word." She swore, her eyes locking on his as she said so.

Reluctant to say anything at all, the assassin stared at her as if trying to tell whether she was telling the truth or not, wanting to call her bluff but it seemed her dead eyes weren't playing games with him. "The Lannisters send their regards."

The phrase made her still, the very same one that Bolton had spoken to her brother before he killed him, a memory that would forever haunt her mind for as long as she could recall it. Ignoring it, she turned her attention to Shadow who still stood guard with his teeth beared. "You'll have to be more specific than that... which one?"

When he didn't reply, Eliana wrapped her hand around the hand that was clutched the wound on his arm, applying a suitable amount of pressure to make him cry out from the pain that rocketed through his arm. "A Lannister always her debts!" The man roared as he thrashed around beneath her, almost taking her feet out from under her while she pulled away quickly.

Eliana smiled in appreciation. "Thank you." With that, she drew her blade and rose to her feet, her eyes not leaving the man's as she swiftly nodded to Shadow and soon enough he was stood on the man's chest to keep him from fleeing.

The sun's rays caught the steel and blinded the assassin momentarily as he continued to thrash about. "No! Please, I was just doing what I was paid to do!" He exclaimed in dread, knowing that he life was about to end and he was helpless to stop it.

"Do you know what my father taught me?" Eliana breathed out, staring at the blade in wonder, gripping the hilt as she remembered a part of her father resided within her own blade which made her clutch it tighter. "The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword." And at that, she brought down her sword.


	50. The game is on

_The head is an important thing, which is what she'd been told as a child, through it a person could see, they could hear, they could taste and they could smell. It contains a person's defining characteristics, the brain, among other things. It could be so hard to remove a person's head especially if a decent amount of force is lacking, to take everything from them... their sight, their hearing, their senses of smell and taste and even their mind._

_A man quakes as his hands are tired, then the tears begin to well within his eyes as he waits for death to strike him. The crowds jeer loudly, their screams calling for his head._

_Only a great, milkglass blade that flies through the air silently, sharp edge dripping ruby, could get the job done. His head falls with a dull thunk, lying upon the ground while his eyes stare up with the hatred in his expression perfect in that moment._

Any other man might have faltered at that, but Eliana was brought up to kill her enemies just the same as men were and she marvelled at the sight of the steel sliding through his neck as smoothly as a knife through butter, his head rolling across the ground as a shrill shriek rung out through the air to greet her.

"Good, you're here…" Eliana ignored the alarmed look on Catelyn's face, and the shriek that fell from her lips. "I need you to stay with my son."

There was a moment of horrified silence, and then Catelyn edged forwards. "Lia… what did you do?" Her mother questioned her slowly, watching as her daughter reached for the head that a rolled just before her feet, picking it up by the hair.

"He tried to kill Alaric…" She paused, throwing her mother a glance as she rose to her feet. "I did what any sane mother would have done, I protected my child."

Still rather confused at the scene before her, Catelyn's brow deepened in worry. "What do you mean, Eliana, what happened just now?"

Eliana sighed, feeling irritation overcome her for a split second. "An assassin was paid by the Lannisters to kill him, that's all I managed to get from him before I decided to remove his head from his shoulders if it meant he would not rise again." She explained plainly.

Grasping her sword firmly in her hand and sheathing it, Eliana tightened her grip of the head of hair and started towards the door while Catelyn drifted towards the cradle in which her grandson was lying quietly. "Where are you going?" She breathed, taking the infant into her arms.

"To present this before this boy king and see what he makes of it…" Lia shrugged, staring at the head oddly. "Or his mother? I haven't quite decided yet."

Her brow deepened as she shook her head, "Don't do that, Lia."

"The game is on, mother."

* * *

She never liked crowds, they irritated her… everyone was always in the way and causing difficulty one way or another. She had to resort to forcing her way through the crowd, shoving when it was necessary or when the lords and ladies didn't move out of the way for her. They complained when she would shove them from her path, startle in surprise at the sheer force of her pushes and shoves.

She could them toasting to the new king, hear them chant  _long may he reign!_ But how long would Tommen truly reign? How long before someone else sat where he thought he belonged? She guessed not long, but he'd be a better king than those before him but perhaps that is to be expected, anyone could be as much of a drunken fool like Robert, neither could anyone be as needlessly cruel… Eliana knew Tommen would be a good king, one who would realise his mistakes and learn from them.

She wondered if he would give her the justice she sought… but as long as his mother clutched him tight, she doubted that would ever happen. However, Margaery lurked close as well and she also knew that Tommen would do anything to win her heart… even if it meant to betray the loyalty of his mother.

She passed Mace Tyrell who was boasted about something to a small gathering, stepping back into her as she passed him. "Oh- goodness! Princess Eliana, I am sorry… what's wrong?" He questioned, but she continued, ignoring the man as he called after her.

"Get your hand off of me, you stupid oaf," She growled when his hand encircled around his forearm, hauling her back. Her words made him step back in shock, clearly not expected such words to leave her mouth.

"Lady Eliana!" Mace spoke, astounded by her words.

"Princess,  _My Lord_." Eliana then gradually continued until the crowds finally parted and she could see the steps which led to the throne on which Tommen sat upon in all his undesirable glory. She tilted her head at him before climbing the steps to greet him.

Unlike his brother before him, Eliana bowed her head in respect which took the boy by surprise. She liked the boy; she had done since he visited Winterfell, him and Mrycella both… purely because they were so unlike their relatives?

However, Tommen hadn't met her gaze and instead his eyes were glued to her hands.

Glancing down at her hands, she realised what he must've been staring at; the blood that had stained her usual snowy skin. The sight made her laugh while Tommen merely stared at her in intrigue. "Princess Eliana, what is wrong?"

Ignoring her hands, she clasped them behind her back and let out a deep breath. "Do you think you'll be a good king, Your Grace?" Eliana questioned in interest, watching him as his brow furrowed in confusion.

Tommen nodded gravely, "I would like to think so… yes, why?" He pressed in concern, leaning forward on the throne.

"Someone tried to kill my son, Your Grace."

The words were foreign to Tommen, at first he didn't understand them nor did he believe them at first but when he saw the dead look flash within her gaze, he knew that she told him no lie. "Whoever was responsible I will bring to justice, I give you my word." He'd never known Eliana Stark to be a liar, her father was just and honourable as was her brother… he could see it in her too, so he knew to believe her.

"Will you?" Eliana inquired with a smirk, nodding her slightly in understanding. She chose to leave out the bit,  _even if it was your mother?_ Having guessed that would rouse more suspicion within him. "You're kind-hearted unlike your brother was which is a relief to me I can assure as he hated my family without true cause however; it will get you killed in this game."

Tommen frowned suddenly, not understanding at all what she was getting at. "What do you mean?" He breathed out, hanging on her every word without realising so.

Eliana took a step back, letting out another small sigh of contentment. "You have to be a ruthless as the opposing side if you are to prevail." She spoke softly, seeing his face fall into utter perplexity.

"I don't understand…"

"Of course, you don't." She concluded with a curt nod, looking down at the golden haired boy before her with her teeth gritted, allowing a sigh to pass through her lips. "In this game, you win or you die."

Still hanging on every word, Tommen lent towards her, his hands gripping the arms of the throne. "And how do you win?" He asked in a hushed tone.

She smiled.

* * *

The cell he found himself in wasn't as rundown as Eliana's; there was a window defaced with bars but rays of light still danced through to the brighten the room however, the smell made him choke, the mixture of piss and shit made him feel sick to his stomach and successfully made him wretch.

"To tell you the truth, this isn't so bad. Four walls, a pot to piss in." Jaime tried to offer his brother some comfort, especially what he was going through, being held for regicide. "I was chained to a wooden post covered in my own shit for months."

Slumped against a wooden post, Tyrion glanced over at his brother, his arms folded over his chest while stumble broke out across his chin. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Tyrion asked quietly, his voice betraying him in that moment.

Jaime shrugged, "Maybe a bit." He paused out of guilt, knowing he shouldn't have left him brother down here without company for so long. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner." He apologised gravely, refusing to meet his gaze.

"It's complicated, yes... Lia told me you'd been busy, as had she… especially considering she'd given birth but  _somehow_  she still managed to visit. I should expect to see her on the morrow as well." Tyrion explained with a smile, remembering the quick but welcomed visit from his brother's lady-love, and how it had hurt that not even his family had ventured down before a Stark. "So... how is our sister?"

Jaime stared blankly at him, "How do you think? Her son died in her arms."

Tyrion tilted his head in question, "Her son?" He repeated, watching Jaime's face grow stern and harden at the words.

"Don't." His voice was composed as she spoke, momentarily glancing away from Tyrion to stare at the ground. "You know what's coming?"

He gave a small nod, how could he not know? "My trial for regicide." Tyrion announced joylessly, feeling despair fill him at the subject of his trial. "Yes, I know… I know the whole bloody country thinks I'm guilty. I know that one of my three judges has wished me dead more times than I can count and that judge is my father." He paused briefly, glowering at the air before his eyes met his brother's. "As for Cersei, well, she's probably working on a way to avoid a trial altogether by having me killed."

Jaime rubbed his right wrist absently, "Now that you mention it, she did ask." Jaime informed him with a hint of a joking tone lurking within his voice, hoping to lessen Tyrion's concern.

"So, should I turn around and close my eyes?"

Shrugging once more, Jaime narrowed his haze at his brother. "Depends… did you do it?"

Tyrion let out a small smile at his thought on his brother's inquiry. "The Kingslayer brothers. You like it?  _I like it_." Tyrion's face then dropped, his jaw becoming more prominent as he gritted his teeth in irritation. "You're really asking if I killed your son?"

"Are you really asking if I'd kill my brother?" There was a moment of silence as Jaime stared at Tyrion but his brother couldn't hold his gaze. "How can I help you?" He asked unexpectedly, bring Tyrion's glance back to him.

"Well, you could set me free." Tyrion suggested.

Jaime shook his head, "You know I can't."

"Lia would do it."

Clenching his fist, Jaime turned his attention away from his brother, angry that he was bringing up his lady-love to blackmail him into doing something he didn't want to do. "I'm not here to talk about Li… Eliana Stark." Somehow he managed to get the words, despite how much of a struggle it was.

Rising to his feet, Tyrion began to walk around the cell, though there was hardly any space for him to wander around. "Then there's really nothing else to say." He let out, his agitation getting the better of him in that moment.

"What do you want me to do?!" Jaime proclaimed in outrage, "Kill the guards? Sneak you out of the city in the back of a cart?" He questioned, allowing his anger to rule his words instead of his head. "I'm the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard."

"Sorry, I'd forgotten." Tyrion raised his hands in defence, glowering at Jaime as he paced back and forth. "I'd hate for you to do something inappropriate."

Jaime stifled a laugh, "Inappropriate?" He repeated slowly, turning his body to fully face his brother. "You're accused of killing the king, freeing you is treason."

"Except I didn't do it." He let out in exasperation, running his hands through his hair.

Jaime nodded, "Which is why we're having a trial." He added, watching as Tyrion scoffed at the news.

"A trial... If the killer threw himself before the Iron Throne, confessed to his crimes, and gave irrefutable evidence of his guilt, it wouldn't matter to Cersei." Tyrion raged, wanting his brother to understand their sister's undying loathing for him, despite having done nothing to offend her int he first place! "She won't rest until my head's on a spike."

Jaime knew what he was about to say, would do little to settle Tyrion's worries. "Not just yours. She's offering a knighthood to whomever finds Sansa Stark."

Tyrion folded his arms over his chest, shaking his head at Jaime's words. "Sansa couldn't have done this." He denied passionately, refusing to believe the young Stark girl would consider murder… her sister, however…

"She had more reason than anyone in the Seven Kingdoms. Do you think it's a coincidence she disappeared the same night Joffrey died?"

Tyrion refused to believe it, Sansa wouldn't do such a thing, and she was too kind and too forgiving to do such a thing. "No, but... Sansa's not a killer." He let out a sigh of defeat, "Not yet, anyway."

* * *

Rushing like a ravine, the liquid spilled into the glass, bubbles layering the surface of the beverage as she brought it to her lips, taking a large gulp as the knocking echoed through her chamber. Cersei barely heard the door open as she settled into her chair, glowering at the wine in her hand.

"You sent for me, Your Grace?" Her brother's voice rung out through the chamber as he entered, stopping to see his sister sat with a wine glass clutched firmly in her hand.

Cersei scoffed, "Your Grace." She repeated, staring off into nowhere, "How formal of you… how many Kingsguards are posted outside Tommen's door?" She questioned, still not bothering to look at him while he closed the door.

Jaime sighed, "Ser Boros is on duty tonight. Tomorrow I believe- "

"So one?" Cersei cut him off, her words harsh as the northern storms. "You have one man guarding the future king?"

Edging towards her, Jaime frowned when she still didn't look at him, and instead continued to clasp her wine glass. "I promise you Tommen's safe, we're protecting him." He vowed with caution, having no intention to anger his sister.

Finally, she threw a glance his way, her eyes like slits that reminded him of Oberyn's sour gaze. "The way you protected Joffrey?" Her words hurt him, as they were meant to but he was the first one to their son, but she pushed him away. "Why did Catelyn Stark set you free?"

"What?"

Tilting her head at him, Cersei 's brow deepened in thought. "I've been wondering for months… ever since that cunt brought you back to the capital." She rose to her feet, however, as did the glass that still sat comfortably in her hand. "Why did she set you free?" She wondered aloud.

Jaime rolled his eyes at his sister, "You know why, she'd hoped I'd send her daughters back to her." He explained honestly – it was the truth, there had been no lie in what he'd said, that had been the sole reason for his freedom.

"She hoped  _or_  did you promise?" Cersei mused, nearing him gradually.

"I swore by all the gods that if her daughters were alive, I'd return them to her." Jaime replied to his sister's distaste.

Cersei nodded and concluded, "So you made a sacred vow to the enemy." She assumed, glowering at him suddenly.

"I wanted to get back to you… should I have told her to fuck off?"

Cersei hummed with a small smile, her face contorting in displeasure. "You didn't mean it, then? You have no loyalty to Catelyn Stark?" She speculated, wanting nothing more than to truly know what happened between her brother and Catelyn Stark.

Jaime kept his head high as he answered. "No."

Cersei glanced down, peering into her wine glass. "What about her daughter, Eliana?" She doubted, knowing about his fascination with the girl and it hurt her… right to her core, it ruptured her heart to know that Jaime was in with another.

"… No."

Nodding, she continued. "So if I told you to leave the capital right now and find Sansa, if I told you to find that murderous little bitch and bring me her head, would you do it?" Cersei pressed, her eyes never leaving him as she spoke. "… I know you went to see Tyrion… that creature who murdered our son."

Jaime looked downwards. "I had to see him. I had to know for myself." He replied tenderly, hating hearing her speak about their brother in such a way.

" _And?_ " Cersei prompted.

Moving towards her, Jaime shook his head in retaliation. "He didn't do it, Cersei." He said, pleading with her to believe him.

Laughing, Cersei stepped away from him, wandering around the chamber to put distance between her and Jaime. "You've always pitied him. Our poor little brother, abused by the world, despised by his father and sister. He'd kill us all if he could." Taking a large gulp of her drink, she swiftly turned back to face him. "I want four men at Tommen's door day and night. That will be all, Lord Commander."

Jaime watched her quietly as she turned away from him again but he didn't move, he didn't deserve to be treated like that, he'd done so much for her and she had the audacity to throw it all back in his face? Scoffing, Jaime turned away from her and clenched his remaining fist irritably. However, when he was about to flee the room his eyes fell upon something else that caught his attention and held it.

He wasn't sure if his eyes were playing tricks on him but it look so real from where he stood that he had to take a look. Starting towards the bed, Jaime allowed his curiosity to get the better of him and soon his eyes widened at the sight before him. "What in the hells…"

"Have you not gone yet?" Cersei's voice echoed throughout the chamber, she turned to see him stood by the bed, his back to her. "What are you doing? You cannot honestly think I'll let you into my- "

"Cersei." Jaime growled, reaching forward to clasp what he'd discovered, taking it into his hand before turning back to face his sister. "Who did you piss off this time?" He pressed, lifting it to show her.

Cersei's eyes widened when she saw the blood drip to stain the floor, the skin severed and slightly jagged but other than that, it was a clean cut for a beheading. She recognised the head and whom it had belonged to and she also knew how it had found its way into her bed.

"Oh, wonderful… she killed him and returned him." Cersei muttered sourly as Jaime eyed her suspiciously. "Don't look at me like that; you think I asked for this assassin's head to turn up in my bed?"

"Whoa, wait… he was an assassin?" Jaime questioned in turn, narrowing his eyes further if it was even possible. "Who was he meant to kill?" Jaime added, unable to stop himself, knowing she antagonized the person to react in such a way to force them to behead the man.

Cersei downed the remaining of her wine and sighed. "It was an easy job, all he had to do was get in, kill the babe, and then leave." She rambled, feeling her power slipping through her fingers as her men continued to die. "That bitch!" Out of fury, Cersei turned and launched her glass at the way, seething as it shatter into tiny pieces.

Jaime's mouth fell agape, the realisation hitting him finally. "You didn't… how could you?!" He roared, dropping the head and seizing her arm, gripping it tightly as he bared his teeth. "That babe had done nothing to you! How could you!"

"Oh, calm yourself." Cersei drawled while she rolled her eyes, "The rat isn't dead; it appears his mother got to my weapon before he had the chance to finish the job." She hissed, ripping herself free of his hold.

"You are a cruel woman, Cersei Lannister. A woman I find myself regretting ever being involved with, you've ruined me but guess what?" Jaime's face was mere inches from her own as he stared her down. "At least I have someone who values my existence, who accepts me for who I am, for what I've become."

"And what is that exactly?" Cersei pressured with intrigue, her eyes flickering to his lips and back to his eyes. " _What have you become?_ "

Jaime didn't answer her questions, he didn't have to nor did he wish to so, turning on his heel, Jaime marched out of the chamber, leaving his sister standing there and staring in utter shock at his sudden exit, and that he'd also tossed her aside. He was done being her pawn in a game she seemed to be losing.

It was all so clear to him in that moment, as he parted ways from his sister, he knew what he was to do. From that moment onward, he would  _only_  ally himself with Eliana, he would  _only_  fight for Eliana... he would  _only_  love Eliana and he would  _only_  die for Eliana.


	51. Clarity

_Stannis of the House Baratheon, the First of his Name,_

_the Rightful King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men,_

_Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm,_

_All has gone accordingly, you should expect us within the next week or so though I cannot give you an exact estimation date when concerning our arrival however, it should be with haste. If you can spare them, I will need to borrow ten ships from your fleet if I am to bring you the remaining nine thousand men North with me, that will gift you with twenty-two thousand men more than you originally had._

_I hope to see you soon._

_Eliana Stark,_

_Princess of Dorne and Queen of the North._

Placing the quill on the table, Eliana folded the missive carefully, moving to press her seal the its edge, the hot wax steaming as it dried against the parchment. "You will sail to Dragonstone tonight. You will place this in the hand of Stannis Baratheon and no one else… only Stannis himself. Do you understand?" She questioned Jarrad, knowing she was being hard on him seeing as those he'd just come back with a missive from Littlefinger from the Vale.

Jarrad bowed his head, "Yes, My Princess... will that be all?" He wondered, tucking the missive inside his tunic pocket, out of sight but not forgotten.

"No, Jarrad that will be all for the moment." She explained, moving to her son who had stirred in his cradle. "If he doesn't send a missive back, I will know he agrees with my terms."

Jarrad nodded, walking past Oberyn who had witnessed the exchange silently. Waiting until they were alone, did Oberyn finally choose to speak. "Are you sure this is wise, Lia? Going to war with this King Beyond the Wall? I thought you were fighting for Winterfell..." Oberyn trailed off in wonder. "Why have you changed your mind all of a sudden?"

"Clarity."

Oberyn's brow furrowed at her response. "Since when have your concerns been for Wildlings?" Oberyn took her hands into his own, intervening with her route to their son. "What is there for you  _that far_  North?" He waited but she didn't answer him to his irritation. "What is with you lately? You don't even talk to me about anything anymore, how do you expect me to understand what in Seven Hells you're doing?!"

Eliana stroked his cheek and smiled, "I don't expect you to do anything... you done so much already." She planted a kiss on his lips, lingering for a couple of moments before she pulled away to rest her forehead against his. "I just need to do this, then I can rally against the Boltons and retake Winterfell."

"How many men has Doran sent you?" Oberyn pressed, pulling her to his chest. "Four thousand, was it?" He felt her nod against him as he rubbed a hand over her tense shoulders. "That was generous of him."

"It was."

"The Queen regent is not happy about the head found in her bed, Lia." Oberyn informed her dryly, hearing her muffled laughter vibrating on his chest, causing him to smile at her reaction. "Her bed, really? Of all the places, you choose where she sleeps how...  _you_." Oberyn hummed, resting his chin on his head. "Your Great-Uncle is wishing to speak with you, the Blackfish... your friend the Spider smuggled him in late last night, he's with your mother right now." Oberyn explained to Eliana's surprise, lifting her head from his chest to frown in confusion.

"Brynden's here?" Eliana pressed quietly before she pulled away from him completely. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Oberyn sighed, "I had only just discovered the news myself." He answered with a smile, allowing her to go to their son as he continued to stir in his cradle, his smile widening when she took him into her arms and cooed to him softly. "I want us to all be a family, Lia. I want to be able to live without the fear that someone will try to harm our son, without the worry of Lannisters or the Boltons or the Freys..."

Oberyn moved towards her, "Fuck that, I want to spend everyday for the rest of our lives making love to you, to have brothers and sisters for Alaric to share his kingdom with, to live in solace." He pulled her tight against him, pressing his lips to his son's forehead. "That's my clarity."

Eliana smiled at his words, "I like the sound of that." She agreed, kissing him again until he pulled away.

"I have to tell Obara she will be returning to Sunspear with your mother and Alaric." Oberyn announced thoughtfully, spinning to face the direction of the door. "If I return to find a Lannister lurking where he does not belong..."

"Oberyn." Eliana chastised bitterly, sick of their petty bickering, but understanding his hatred all the same. She smiled when his gaze finally found hers, "If he comes then I will tell him of my plans to ride North, I aim to test his loyalty is all and if he complies then... all the more fun for me to get under Cersei's skin when I offer myself as witness for Tyrion."

Oberyn, however, didn't appear convinced by her words. "He will come." he challenged with certainty.

She nodded, "Yes, he will." Eliana saw the anger flicker across his face at her words but she ignored them all the same. "I love you."

Then he smiled. "Always, my love."

Eliana sighed to herself when he finally left the room, leaving her with her son whom resembled so much of Robb with his faint auburn girls that felt so soft beneath her chin when she rested it on his head. "You see this crown..." She smiled at the crown, holding it before her son as he clutched it between his fingers. "This will one day be your own and one day you will wear it as you rule over those who you have power over, you will use it against those who seek to oppose you, you will-"

"Lia?" the Lannister's voice rung out through her chamber, interrupting her chat with her son to her annoyance. Jaime paused when he saw the look Eliana was giving him from where he stood near the door. "I heard from Jarrad you're leaving... where are you going? Are you going somewhere?" he pressed, wandering into the room with a dark look ruining his usual handsome face.

Sighing, Eliana looked away from him and back to her son who sat comfortably in her arms. "Riding North to reclaim what is rightfully mine." she announced honestly, seeing absolutely no point lying to the man if he claimed he was loyal to her and not his sister.

Before he could stop himself, Jaime was blurting replies he didn't mean. "You can't."

He'd never seen her head snap so quickly in his direction before, her gaze threatening as he challenged her plans with two simple words that she simply couldn't stand to hear fall from his mouth. "And who will prevent me from doing such a thing?" Eliana questioned, willing him to rise against her once more, to question her plans to take back what rightfully belongs to her. Her eyes narrowed at him suspiciously. "... Even you're not that foolish."

Jaime strolled forwards softly, watching her with a gentle gaze. "And how do you suppose to do such a thing?" he probed, knowing it was dangerous for him to ask such things of her, knowing it was no his place to ask such things of her.

"More loyalists are coming to me with each passing day; several hundred rode in last night from the Riverlands, my great-uncle among them. I have twenty men riding North to rally the remains of my father's banners where they will wait until I give the command." She paused to his eyebrow raise in surprise at her news but also a frown form on his lips at her deception of keeping the truth from him. "Thomos has ridden to the Reach and Storm Lands to gather those who are still loyal to the cause - Randyll Tarly has been exceptionally kind - Markas has also persuaded Doran to fight for me, as I knew he would… he is my brother by law now."

Even Jaime seemed as surprised as she was when she discovered how lenient Doran had been when allowed her some of his troops, very rarely did he allow such things. "You and I both know that you won't have enough men to take back Winterfell – how many has the Reach gifted you with?" he pressed in concern, wanting to know the full reasoning behind such a sudden change in preparation.

Eliana smiled widely at his question, oh, how she'd laughed when she read his missive. "Ten thousand – they're currently sailing to Dragonstone where they will wait for their Queen with three thousand men from the Storm Lands and Vale." she divulged excitedly, swaying softly, causing the infant in her arms to gurgle but not take his attention off of the crown.

Jaime almost choked on her words. "You're rallying with Stannis Baratheon?" he all but exclaimed, finding his sudden rage all too much to contain in that moment. "You said you would do no such thing - that's... that's treason!" he roared with rage, throwing his hand and gilded steel one into the air.

She gave a shrug of her shoulders. "I lied."

"That's still not- "

Eliana cut him off swiftly, her eyes still glued to her son as he gurgled away in her arms quite contently. "Fight for me, Jaime – just like promised you would." Eliana encouraged all of a sudden, finally glancing to meet his eye as he stared at her with a strong verdant storm of ever growing fury. Eliana could easily tell that her words didn't sit well with Jaime which unsettled her as well.

He bowed his head in disgrace. "You know I cannot." he whispered but she heard him all the same.

Baring her teeth, Eliana hissed at him. "Then you are another futility I do not need in this." she warned in anger as she turned away from, not standing to look upon him as he went back on his word, back on what he'd promised her he would do if she requested.

"Lia- "

Whipping her head to glower at him, smirking menacingly when he jumped away in fright at her sudden outburst. "I am the Queen in the North! Do you honestly think I will stand aside as those treacherous sons of whores flay every last living soul in the North? Their own people? MY PEOPLE?!" Her voice ripped through the air, causing her son to jump in fright and his bottom lip to quiver at her shouts and soon enough, a wail erupted from his lungs. "They will burn for the sacrilege they forced upon my people and I will start all of the fires and watch them all burn..." Eliana continued, bouncing her son to soothe him as he continued to cry.

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Jaime frowned, watching the interaction between mother and son.

Eliana clenched her jaw as she looked to her lion of Lannister with a thoughtfully look, frowning softly before nodding. "Soon enough winter will be upon us, and soon enough most will die from its wrath – I was born in the winter… When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives." Eliana grinned at him, eager enough to pursue her enemy, tired of waiting in the shadows and allowed the lust for victory to lead her.

Surging forward, Eliana clasped his good remaining hand and squeezed it tightly, her wolfish grin not faltering for a moment. "Winter is coming, but they forget, I was born in the winter, it runs through my veins, I know how to survive its clutches – I am the winter and they shall fear my wrath." she told him with such passion flowing freely from within her, so much heart she'd thought she'd lost with her brother, with her father but it still lurked. " _The North remembers_."

Jaime ripped his hand from hers, stepping back in outage. "You're mad." His mouth fell agape at his own confession and her current mental state.

Shaking her head, Eliana smiled brightly at him, kissing Alaric's forehead as she smoothed his hair lovingly. "No, this is clarity Jaime..." Her gaze turned sour when he didn't return her smile which told her he wasn't willing to follow her into battle. "Get out, you're boring me. Your dulcet tones are successfully boring me." she growled, moving to place Alaric back into his cradle, taking the crown from him.

"What is with you?" Jaime grabbed her arms and shook her forcefully, hoping to shake some sense into her but Eliana merely stared at him. "First you want me then you throw me away? You can't do that."  _You have no right..._  he had to refrain himself from saying the last bit, knowing it would only infuriate him further.

"You did it to me easy enough, who's to say I can't do the same to you?" Eliana challenged, her eyes staring him tell, daring him to rise against her. "In case you've forgotten, I'm married and I have a child..." she trailed off in a whisper, finding herself lost in her thoughts as they revolved around her head. "Get out."

Jaime scoffed, throwing his head in the direction of Alaric despite knowing the child had wronged him in no way... only that he hadn't been born of his seed. He had to at least try to reason with her, to try and make her see that what she planned was mad and beyond belief. "Lia- "

"Do not call me by that name, get out!"

Jaime paused when he saw the tears in her eyes, glistening across that blizzard gaze he found himself being hypnotized by and soon he found himself walking towards her, wanting to touch her, to hold, to kiss her but before he even got the chance another voice rung through the air.

"You heard her, Lannister, she told you to leave."

Jaime could have sworn if he'd continued and took hold of her, she would have allowed him to have his way with her, to make her his, to make love to the woman he was so entranced by but her eyes moved from his person to the man stood behind him.

Eliana smiled warmly at the sight of Brynden Tully, quickly pulling him into a tight embrace. "It has been too long, Uncle Brynden." she laughed into his shoulder, feeling the tension lurking within his shoulders. "You have been sorely missed, you sight is most welcome." Eliana pulled him to her, leading him to the cradle holding her son as he stared upwards at their arrival.

"Oh, look at 'im!" Brynden chuckled gleefully, brushing his finger against Alaric's cheek as his tiny hand moved to grasp it as it made contact with him. "Little tyke, he looks just like him..."

Eliana looked between Brynden and Alaric, wondering whom he would say though she knew who he would say for it would only be the truth. "He resembles both your father and your brother, Fawn."

Eliana frowned, about to reply when her mother's voice broke through the air. "She's hardly a Fawn any more, Uncle." she announced, though her eyes didn't stray from Jaime as she entered the room, her arm touching his shoulder when she passed him.

He couldn't just stand there and watch them act as though they were a happy family, that everything was fine and back to normal, they weren't safe - no one was safe! Jaime followed Catelyn, not prepared to give up on talking sense into Eliana. "There's something you should know!" he shout caught the attention of not Eliana, but also Brynden and Catelyn who were watching him with narrowed eyes, sending his heart into frantic thumps as it rattled in his chest. "My sister has charged me with finding your sister and bringing back her head."

Tilting her head in question, Eliana stared at him for a moment, weighing out her options for the lion until she stalked towards him, her merely inches from his as she continued to stare him down. "Did she now... and why are you telling me?" Her voice was dreadfully low, a snarl through the night that came to bite him on the neck, to silence him but Jaime refused to be silenced.

"Because I don't want to kill your sister, I want to protect her!"

Eliana stepped away from him, feeling her mother seize her arm suddenly, her grasp tight on her wrist. "She's safe I can assure, I made certain of that." she argued, her eyes not wandering from his face as she watched him, waiting for him to persuade, for him to say something with some sense, something she could work with.

Her comment made Jaime scoff in disbelief, did she really believe that?  _She couldn't..._  "You think she's safe with Baelish, even I know you're not that stupid! He's a power hungry fool, he'll trade her for anything if it buys him status in return." he pleaded, his gaze moving between her and Catelyn, wanting to use the love the mother bore for her children to his advantage.

Charging forward, Brynden swung her around to face him, the furious blaze alight in his eyes. "Wait, you gave her to Baelish?" he demanded, staring her down as if trying to root out the source of her choice to send of Sansa to Petyr Baelish.

"Lia, he's right."

Eliana's eyes fell on her mother who pulled on her arm tightly, she'd never seen her look so frightened at the mention of Sansa being in danger. "I will go... the fault is mine and mine alone, I shouldn't have done it." she concluded dutifully with her head hung low in disappointment, knowing there was only one thing for her to do and only she could it.

But Jaime had other ideas, he also knew it wouldn't be wise for her to go riding off North to pursue Littlefinger when she had willing servants who could do the job for her, well perhaps one who would do so with full devotion that came at no cost. "No, that wouldn't be wise." Jaime knew his words displeased her but it was truth and she deserved the truth if no one else was willing to give it to her.

"What do you propose we do about her safety then?" Eliana took her mother's hand into her own as she smiled at her softly, giving it a squeeze before she glanced at Jaime with a frown. "You talk about my mistakes, tell me what I should have done but when I go to attempt to correct them, you object. What do you propose, Jaime Lannister?" Eliana asked him, wanting to know what thoughts were swirling around his head, wanting he wanted her to do, wanting he wished she would do. However, his silence showed her his reluctance to speak his mind. "Well, what are you waiting for? We're all familiar here, speak your mind."

With a deep intake of breath, Jaime nodded, feeling a slight warm from her words. "... I have a plan. but I'm afraid your agreement to it is quite debatable."

* * *

The sharp breeze rippled through the air, almost knocking Jaime over while stood with his good hand resting on Eliana's lower back but thankfully, his lady love caught him by the shoulder and steadied him.

Nudging him forwards, Jaime stepped towards the tall, formidable woman that lurked before himself and Eliana and withdrew his sword that was seated at his waist, its scabbard still keeping it comfortable. "I would have given anything to wield a blade like this... with my right hand but seeing as I am without the hand, this sword is wasted on me... take it." He thrusted the sword into her unwilling hands and took a step back despite how much it pained him to discard the piece of steel.

In one swift movement, Brienne unsheathed the blade and stared in wonder as the black and red ripples through the steel's body. Her eyes then darted to the pommel which had the shape of a golden lion's head with ruby eyes that shone wondrously. Its scabbard was also a piece of beauty, glittering gold and was decorated with a row of lion's head and smoldering red rubies.

Brienne looked up, meeting his gaze shakily. "I can't accept this, I can't take this - it's Valyrian steel, it belongs to you." She tried to hand the blade back but Jaime firmly shook his head.

Eliana looked at the man with golden hair, watching him silently before choosing to speak. "It was reforged from my father's sword, we've decided you'd use it to defend his daughter, my sister." Eliana paused, seeing her stiffen at her words. "I swore an oath to return my sister's to my mother, however, it seems I have failed in my duty to see it through and I hope that you'll be able to do what I couldn't seem to be able to." She stopped herself, seeing Brienne frown. "Many believe that Ary's dead which is incorrect, she is alive - or at least she was when I saw her last, she should be with Sandor Clegane but I know for definite where you'll find Sansa."

Brienne tilted her head, "My Princess?"

"You need to find her and get her somewhere safe."

Brienne stared at Eliana for a moment, watching the woman before her as she stared up at her with so much hope that willed her to say anything but no... she couldn't tell her no. "I'll find her, for Lady Catelyn." She gave a grave nod which made Eliana smile brightly. "And for you."

Eliana clasped her hand on Brienne's shoulder and gripped it tightly. "Oh, I almost forgot, we have one more gift." She smiled when she saw Podrick in her line of view, dropping her hand from her shoulder to clasp both of Podrick's.

Brienne scoffed, striding past Podrick, ignoring him completely. "I don't need a squire." she informed Eliana with a stubborn glance.

Eliana frowned but still persisted. "Of course you do." she argued with a stern look, paying her debt to Tyrion that she would keep the lad safe.

However, Brienne didn't seem to care, she worked best on her own and she knew that Eliana knew it too. "He'll slow me down." she acknowledged dryly, readying herself.

Jaime sighed when he saw Eliana look to him for help. "My brother owes him a debt. He's not safe here... you'd be keeping him from harm." Jaime stated with a small smirk, looking to Eliana who didn't seem at all impressed by his persuading, obviously believing he could have been more helpful in persuading her. "It's chivalry."

"I won't slow you down, ser-" Eliana broke out into laughter suddenly, knowing that Podrick would only get on Brienne's nerves, but also knowing that he only meant well. "My lady. I promise I'll serve you well."

"See?" Eliana teased with a wry smile, pulling away from Pod. "He's a good lad, you'll get along." Brienne merely glowered at her darkly, clearly not agreeing.

Clapping his hand on his shoulder, Bronn drew Podrick's attention to him. "Compliments of Lord Tyrion." He removed the cover of what he was carrying, revealing an axe before thrusting it into his chest with a forceful push. "His axe from the Blackwater... what are you waiting for, a kiss? Ready the lady's horse." Bronn ushered him away with a smirk.

Podrick nodded and rushed off, a stupid smile across his face as he stumbled off.

Jaime looked over at Eliana, who stepped towards her friend with a grim look on her face. "They say the best swords have names... any ideas?" she pressed, clasping her hands together as she cranked her upwards to look at the gaunt woman.

"Oathkeeper."

With a smile, Eliana reached up and briefly wrapped her arms around the woman, startling her until she was forced to wrap her own around her in response. "Good-bye, Brienne of Tarth, I hope you will succeed in the duty I failed due to my selfishness." she whispered only so she could hear her. "My friend, I wish you all the best of luck."

Once she pulled away, Brienne marched past her and swiftly climbed atop her horse and barely even waited for Podrick, who was still stumbling around after her. When he was atop his horse, he struggled to catch up with Brienne as she was already trotting ahead.

Just when Eliana thought they were fine and comfortable, she went to turn away but Brienne suddenly glanced back at her, make her freeze in her spot as their eyes connected with one another's. Nodding, Eliana couldn't help the guilt filling her as she forced another woman to claim her failed duties, she was a failure.

Turning away, Eliana began to walk off towards the city, leaving Jaime and Bronn to themselves until a voice called her back. "Where are you going now, Lia?" Jaime shouted to her as she didn't even look back at him.

"I am late for you brother, I promised him my service for his upcoming trial and I wish to discuss matters with him as a friend."

* * *

Eliana sighed as she stared at Tyrion, the rays of line illuminating his scarred face though she still thought he looked handsome... never had Tyrion been ugly in her eyes. The smell was awful she noted, it was worse than the last time she'd been down there, the mixture of piss and shit made her to sick to her stomach but somehow, she managed to ignore it.

"Tyrion." She begun quietly, trying to think what to say, smiling as he took a long drink of the wine she'd brought him. What ever she was to said would lead her to telling him what she'd done, that she was the reason he was down there in the black cells. "Podrick is safe, I've sent him along with Brienne to find Sansa."

"Sansa." His voice rose up, hoarse and gruff. "You know where she is?" he said in disbelief, looking at her with wide gaze, not believing his ears.

She nodded silently, not trusting her voice to talk for her but she knew she would have to soon enough. "Yes... she's with Baelish in the Vale, where I sent her." Her voice was barely audible.

"Then that means..."

"I think it would be best for me to explain, Tyrion." Eliana informed him calmly, wanting him to know the reasoning behind her actions. "I knew Joffrey would die, I had been informed of the matter and I knew the likely hood of you being taken for regicide, and so, I had to get my sister out of the city to ensure he safety."

Tyrion struggled to find the words to say, still in shock of the revelation that had been brought to light.

"Because of this, I will willingly stand witness for you in your trial as I believe you will have none other who would do such a thing."

"Why?" Tyrion asked, his mind reeling as he tried to understand what she saying to him. "You knew they would arrest me? And you did nothing?"

Eliana nodded solemnly, looking to the floor in shame of her actions. "Yes, I have played you for a pawn and for that I cannot merely apologise because that will do nothing to put right what has happened to you. I have allowed you to be held responsible for my mistakes and I will see it that you are a free man before you die for them, that I can promise you... the wait for your trial will not be much longer."

"Wonderful."

"I am so sorry." Eliana spoke, unable to look him in the eye.

Tyrion smiled crookedly, "It's the not first time I've be arrested for murder or attempted murder, it seems you and your mother have been responsible both time but strangely, I find myself trusting you." he admitted confusedly. "Have they chosen the judges yet?"

"No, but I would assume on of them will be your father though Oberyn is convinced that he will be asked to prevent me from coming to your aid in the trial..." Eliana told him with deep look. "But I think your father knows that whatever he does, I will still go against his wishes, which of course, I will."

"And what of your child?" he asked softly.

Eliana frowned in the darkness. "Your beloved sister tried to have him killed, but I handled that easy enough and don't think she'll do anything any time soon either, not if she wants another head in her bed but I shall soon see... " She said, clenching her fists at the memory. "I'm afraid I must go."

"Wait." He caught her by the sleeve, forcing her to turn back to find his mismatched her watching her every movement. "Why are you so willing to be a witness for me?"

"Tyrion, you will be free, I promise you."


	52. Sobriety

Oberyn rolled onto his back, pushing the book he had been reading to the edge of the bed. Clasping his hands together, he sat up and glowered into nothing, feeling subtle agitation overcome him. He'd been in the Capital for weeks, and yet, he still hadn't got his vengeance…

"Tyrion's trial will instigate in the upcoming weeks from what I've heard, Varys believes he would be lucky to escape execution." Eliana informed him, settling Alaric into his cradle before moving to join him. "Cersei has rallied a legion of witnesses and left him with only one, I."

"Mmm, you are playing a dangerous game, my love," Oberyn hummed, threading his fingers through her hair, his fingernails massaging her scalp. "You will need to keep your tongue under lock and key."

Eliana's her eyes slowly closed as he continued to massage her head, "Will you stand as witness for him?"

"Revenge is an act of passion; vengeance is an act of justice," Oberyn delivered, his hand enclosing around her thighs, guiding her until she was sitting on his own. Gently, he falsified her muscles, relishing the silkiness of her skin. Eliana smiled, leaning down to kiss him gentle, her hands sliding up to cup his face.

She pulled away slightly, "You will get justice for Elia, Oberyn." Her words made him sigh and lean his forehead against the crook of her neck. "And I have my own plans for the Mighty Lion, I want to see how far he'll bend before he breaks and all things break eventually..."

Oberyn frowned against her forehead, "What do you mean to do?" he was worried Eliana would go to extreme lengths to get Tywin to bend to her will, he was worried that she would do  _anything_ to get what she wanted and he was also worried that he would lose her doing so but what concerned him more, was that he was willing to let her do that because they both needed their vengeance.

Eliana stroked his hair, pressing her lips to his jaw as she spoke softly to him. "I want to see if seduction will work to get what I want... they do say a woman's best weapon is between her legs." She whispered quietly.

Oberyn went to protest, "Lia, he's an old man -"

She nodded in agreement, "And they have needs just like you, my love... anyway, he enjoys me so it shouldn't be too challenging."

Oberyn scoffed but didn't pull away from her, "What does that even mean?" He muttered against her lips.

"It means he's weak."

Eliana moaned softly as she felt her husband's lips brush against the soft skin of her neck. Slowly, every nerve in her body came to life and soon she began to feel every little sensation, from the subtle shift of her tunic to Oberyn's teeth taking skin into his mouth between kisses. "Oh my beautiful she-wolf," Oberyn whispered against her skin.

Smiling still, Eliana weaved her hands through his long, mellifluous hair and tugged, causing a sharp hiss to emerge from Oberyn that only made her smile wider as she gripped his hair and kissed him hard, moaning when he met her lips with equal fierceness.

Soon they were pressed against their bed, Eliana flat on her back while Oberyn broke their kiss to continue to turn his attention to her neck and collar which he devoured with sweet, light kisses, making Eliana tug on his hair to direct his lips back to hers.

Oberyn smiled against her lips, pecking them briefly as he contained to stroke her thighs. "Beautiful," Oberyn whispered, bringing one hand to cup her face while he moved forward to kiss her, but a voice stopped him.

"Prince Oberyn."

Closing her eyes, Eliana took a deep intake of breath before glancing around to face the Lion of Lannister with a painful smile that made her jaw ache. "Lord Tywin… " Eliana announced with a frown. "What an unexpected pleasure to find you in  _our_  chambers."

"Lady Eliana," Tywin acknowledged her nonchalantly, clasping his hands tightly behind his back as he stared at her with that deadpan gaze of his, his eyes trailing over her bare thighs as she remained seated atop her husband's lap. "I would like to speak with your husband alone, may we have the room?"

She gritted her teeth, and continued to smooth her husband's hair as he rose to his feet, taking her with him. "And if I should decline?" She had a suspicion about what he was going to propose to Oberyn once she was gone, but she didn't want to assume… assuming would get her nowhere.

"Go on, my love…" Oberyn urged with a kiss to her forehead, "Go, find your mother while Lord Tywin and I discuss whatever matters of importance are on his mind." He smiled falsely at the old man, placing his hands on her waist and kissing her neck while she moved towards the door.

Tywin watched stiffly as the Stark woman brushed past him to exit the room, "Thank you…" Once she was gone, he wandered further into the room while Oberyn watched him.

He gestured to the chair nearest to him, "Would you like to sit?" He offered, moving to pour himself out a glass of wine when Alaric stirred and drew his attention away from the subject of drinks. "Papa is here."

Tywin, however, remained standing and observed as the Dornishman took his infant son into his arms and cooed to himself gently.

"If you would like some wine -" Oberyn gestured to the pitcher on the table.

"No, thank you."

Oberyn looked to him quickly, "I apologise, usually he doesn't wake but it seems he has other ideas…"

"Perhaps he can sense an enemy as your wife would call me, much like your guard dog does as well." Tywin was right; by the cradle, Shadow stood bearing his teeth at him, obviously seeing him as a threat to both Oberyn and the babe.

Tilting his head, Tywin stared at the babe in his arms and hooked his fore finger in his small palm as he clasped it tightly. "Strong little fellow, isn't he?" He mused softly as he stared down at him. "Though he looks more like his mother than you, but I suppose you both prefer it that way." He taunted subtly, though Oberyn understood his intention.

Oberyn sighed, knowing his words were meant to insult him but he couldn't care less... "Would you like to hold him?" He offered but Tywin immediately stepped back and clasped his hands behind his back once more, telling Oberyn no through his discomfort at the question. "… I'm sorry about your grandson."

Tywin stifled a laugh, "Are you?"

Shrugging, Oberyn smiled down at Alaric and rocked him softly. "I don't believe that a child is responsible for the sins of his father. Or his grandfather…" He trailed off, looking up at Tywin. "An awful way to die."

Raising an eyebrow, the Hand watched the Prince before him. "Which way is that?" He questioned in interest, his watchful her scrutinizing him.

Oberyn frowned, placing a finger into his son's mouth as he sucked. "Are you interrogating me, Lord Tywin?" He quipped with annoyance, wondering how the man dared, having wandered into his private chambers unannounced and then had the audacity to accuse him of poisoning Joffrey which he didn't, despite knowing who did.

Tywin let out a deep sigh, "Some believe the king choked." He clarified, wanting to hear his view on the matter of Joffrey's death.

"Some believe the sky is blue because we live inside the eye of a blue-eyed giant." Oberyn replied with a smirk, walking around the room in a hope to get Alaric back to sleep, not even bothering to hide his knowledge of poisons. "The king was poisoned."

Continuing to pace around the room, Tywin's eyes never drifted from the direwolf that lurked in the corner of the room, watching him silently, willing him to put a foot out of line. "I hear you studied poisons at the Citadel." He prompted with a tone of question to his voice.

"I did." He nodded in agreement, not caring if it seemed at all suspicious. "This is why I know."

Tywin glowered suddenly, his eyes flying to Oberyn to stare at him incredulously. "Your hatred for my family is rather well known, your wife's hatred for my family is well known." He recited the evident thoughts on the minds of those who opposed his family. "You arrive at the capital, an expert in poisoning, some weeks later my grandson dies of poisoning… rather suspicious, don't you think?" He asked, his eyes staring in Oberyn's dark orbs.

"Why haven't you thrown me in a dungeon?"

Tywin allowed another sight to pass through his lips, "You and Eliana seem to be close to Tyrion, since your arrival in the capital what have you discussed?" He pressed as he watched man lower his son into his cradle so he could sleep.

Oberyn chuckled, "You think we conspired together?"

"What did you discuss?"

"I have rarely spoken with your son, my wife however, has spoken with him on numerous times but I can assure you all our conversations have been good-natured and pleasant." Oberyn explained honestly. "Though, I think he understands my hatred for your family… the death of my sister and her children."

He rolled his eyes in annoyance, sucking in a sharp breath as Oberyn sought out his thirst. "For which you blame me." He concluded dully.

Oberyn watched him carefully, his eyes narrowing reasonably. "She was raped and murdered by the Mountain. The Mountain follows your orders..." He informed with a glower of his Viper gaze. "Of course I blame you." He deduced.

"Here I stand unarmed, unguarded." Tywin noted, raising his hands to Oberyn as he brought his wine to his lips and drank deeply. "Should I be concerned?"

"You are unarmed and unguarded because you know me better than that." Oberyn concluded, smiling darkly at the man before him. "I am a man of reason, if I cut your throat today, I will be drawn and quartered tomorrow."

Sighing, Tywin continued to voyage around the room, strolling contently as Oberyn's eyes followed him. "Men at war commit all kinds of crimes without their superiors' knowledge." He said.

Folding his arms across his chest, Oberyn bristled lightly but the anger he felt rising within him didn't settle. "So you deny involvement in Elia's murder?" Oberyn queried with another glower, making Tywin stop and glance over at it.

"Categorically."

Pushing himself off from the bed and releasing his arms, he approached Tywin immediately, staring at him as he came to a slow halt. "I would like to speak with the Mountain." He prompted.

Tywin's eyes brows rose, "I'm sure he would enjoy speaking with you." He agreed with a nod.

"He might not enjoy it as much as he thinks he would." Oberyn added with a smirk.

Oberyn's brow dropped, he did not expect that of all things to come from the lips of Tywin Lannister and especially at a time when the country is at war with one another. "Why?" He blurted, perplexed, drifting away from Tywin to rest back against the bed.

"Not long ago, the Tyrells sided with Renly Baratheon and declared themselves enemies of the throne." Tywin explained, allowing a pause to pass peacefully before he continued. "Now they are our strongest allies."

Oberyn shrugged, "Well, you made the Tyrell girl a queen… asking me to judge at your son's trial isn't quite as tempting." He admitted, looking to his son momentarily before finding verdant eyes soon after.

Turning away from Tywin, Oberyn allowed his attention to rest fully with his son, knowing the conversation was doing nothing for his desire of vengeance.

"I will also invite you to sit on the small council to serve as one of the new king's principal advisors."

Turning back gradually, Oberyn narrowed his eyes at the man and said cautiously, "I never realized you had such respect for Dorne, Lord Tywin."

"We are not the Seven Kingdoms until Dorne returns to the fold." Tywin announced gravely. "The king is dead. The Greyjoys are in open rebellion. A wildling army marches on the Wall. And in the East, a Targaryen girl has three dragons." He listed only a few problems, Oberyn noticed nothing to do with Dorne's loyalties lied were mentioned because they weren't with him, they were with the daughter of the North. "Before long, she will turn her eyes to Westeros. Only the Dornish managed to resist Aegon Targaryen and his dragons."

Oberyn grinned as he faced Tywin smugly, "You're saying you need us?" Oberyn noticed, staring madly at him as Tywin became uncomfortable with knowledge. "That must be hard for you to admit." He taunted gleefully.

"We need each other." Tywin concluded, ignoring his comments, "You help me serve justice to the king's assassins and I will help you serve justice to Elia's." Tywin offered, which clearly tempting Oberyn as his eyes widened dramatically.

Suddenly, he moved to hold out his hand for Oberyn to shake.

Oberyn stared at it and recalled Eliana, "I will have to discuss this with my wife." He explained dryly as Tywin's hand receded quickly.

"Ah, Eliana, of course." He chuckled darkly, though Oberyn sensed the two didn't get along with one another.

"The both are you are not friends?"

Tywin let out a deep sigh, Eliana Stark had caused immense problems for him. "Your wife and I don't share a friendship but more of an agreement, although she does have the temptation to threaten me on any occasion she feels is necessary." He spoke through gritted teeth.

Oberyn frowned, "How unfortunate… but you did have her brother murdered." He asserted as Tywin nodded in agreement. "I shouldn't expect her to warm to your company."

"On contrary, I rather enjoy her." Tywin spoke.

"Oh, do you?" Oberyn pressed with interest, "I would very much like to hear more…"

* * *

Catelyn was in the gardens picking at the petals of flowers, knelt beside them as a soft wind blew... normally, she would have sat on a bench but today was far too hot, despite that though she still wore her hair in a northern braid.

She smiled though it was often so small some did not think to see it... what did she have left to smile about? Her fingers curled around a few more flowers, stroking the stems and the petals. They were so soft, much like her hands but ever since the night with her—with her Bran, and the dagger, her hands had been scared, stolen of their softness.

She continued to pick flowers, placing some in her lap, others beside her. She was thankful that she could indulge herself in something that she found took away the pain… even if it did not last. In the North she rarely had gardens; she had nothing of flowers or sunshine, instead all she had was snow and dead leaves, and open walls.

Catelyn felt like she was trapped in a cage, a cage full of lions, waiting to be ripped to shreds. She closed her eyes tightly for a few moments, feeling her fingers curl tightly in her palm, swallowing deeply if she was to keep the bile from risen within her throat, and she opened her eyes. It sickened her, how everyone smiled and pretended all well in the Seven Kingdoms.

An empty and hollow place, full of charming laughs and the flawless, permanent smiles people wore to shield themselves of the pain and the horror that woke within the night. She parted her lips, a sigh leaving them before she glanced away from her torn petals.

"What is there for you here, Cat?" She whispered to herself, knowing the flowers would not answer her.

The handmaidens said she was beautiful but Cat knew they were being polite, and doing as they had been instructed. No one was to upset Lady Stark, in fear of her daughter's wrath. Catelyn scoffed, shutting her eyes again before she looked to her flowers, observing as the breeze made them shaking, her precious flowers.

Robb was gone, Ned was gone, and her home was gone. She had nothing but her flowers and her memories, and her scarred hands.

Catelyn could hear her Robb telling her that she was going to be alright, that everything would turn out for the best. That he would be King in the North, and he would protect them all, every last one of them. She could hear it still, even when she had seen her son die right before her eyes.

Catelyn opened her eyes finally, letting out a breath. She shook her head, picking up a few flowers before beginning to stand as a hand slipped into hers.

"I honestly don't know how they manage to survive the fabrications of the court," Eliana admitted with a sigh, watching as her mother reached for Alaric as he slept in her arms.

Both of them hated doing such things, who need to amuse themselves with the likes of simpering women and their fake pleasantries? Oh, but in King's Landing, it's important to keep appearances for all to see. Eliana couldn't manage it, everyone knowing how her family and her army was butchered, and then having to act as if she was entirely grateful and pleased to be in the company of those responsible for it.

"Whom?" Catelyn asked as they walked in no particular direction, but it felt good to walk around… she needed the air to remind herself she was alive.

Eliana scoffed. "All of them ..." She grumbled out, but Catelyn smiled nonetheless, feeling the heat of her daughter's spirit, feel her hate for the city and for the court and that everything seemed to grate on her nerves but Catelyn can't help but smile at how worked up she gets.

"Pardon me, my Lady? My Princess?" a voice rung out from behind.

Catelyn stopped and turned, only to find Margaery Tyrell walking towards them, all young grace and beautiful.

With her grandson still in her arms, Catelyn somehow managed a curtsey, keeping her balance. "My Lady." She bowed her head, noticing that her daughter had not moved to do such a thing, instead a soft smile had fallen across her lips.

"Oh, nonsense, you need not do that with me," Margaery insisted, smiling brightly which stunned Catelyn. "I do hope that you will forgive me, but we've never had the chance to speak privately..." She takes a deep breath. "I wanted to give my sincerest apologies on your loss, I hadn't wished to bring it up in front of other, your daughter, Sansa, was a true friend of mine. I grew to care for her fiercely, my Lady."

The words were unexpected and threw Catelyn off guard. Glancing at Eliana, she can't help but feel slightly off balance, though it is foolish to even show such a thing. Lia had told her Margaery was a key player in the game, and she was to be careful.

"Your kind words are greatly appreciated, Lady Margaery," Catelyn replied in a tight voice, clutching Alaric tighter against her chest. "I am glad that Sansa had someone here so that she was not completely alone."

Margaery gave her an almost watery smile. Oh, how it made her eyes sparkle. Yes, she is a dangerous player indeed. "I do hope that we may be close too some day, I already regard Lia here, as a friend and after all, it is a lonely place in King's Landing; and I know how difficult it is to come by friends here."

"Indeed it is." Eliana agreed with a smile, her eyes falling past Margaery's shoulder as her smile grew. "Your Grace." She curtseyed immediately.

"My Lady, you disappeared without informing me…" Tommen was flushed, his reddened cheeks glowing as he came to a stop before them. "Oh, hello, Lady Catelyn, Princess Eliana." He smiled widely, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

"Your Grace," Catelyn sank down into a curtsey, balancing Alaric.

"Let me take him," Eliana insisted, moving to retrieve her son.

"I bore five children, Eliana. I know how to hold a child and curtsey; I did it enough times when you were a babe."

Eliana rolled her eyes.

"Can I hold him?" Tommen asked, glancing from Eliana to Catelyn in anticipation.

Eliana surveyed Tommen, tilting her head in question as she watched him silently. He looked so excited, and after all he was still only a child himself. "Of course you can, though you might have to wrestle my mother," She jested lightly, receiving a glare from Catelyn.

"My Lady, may I?" Tommen pressed, moving towards her mother cautiously, his arms before him ready to capture to infant in his arms.

Gradually, Catelyn lowered Alaric into Tommen's arm as the young King pulled him flush against his chest, his hold securing him in place. "Make sure to support his head," Catelyn instructed, as Tommen did what he was told.

It was a sweet picture: the blonde king cradling a baby boy in his arms, looking down at him in awe; and Eliana could see him mouthing things to her son such as " _hello,_ " and " _how are you?_ " and " _my name is Tommen and this is my queen-to-be, Margaery_ ". All sweet, innocent things, just as he was, even if he had come from something not-so-innocent at all.

"He's such a handsome fellow," Margaery commented, stroking her finger against his cheek as the babe stirring and stared up at her.

"And he's so little," Tommen added in awe, "This is my first time holding a baby, seeing as I was always the baby of the family… and if I am to become a father, I think it is best for me to get in some practice, no?"

"You've never held a babe before?"

Tommen just shook his head.

Catelyn felt a bit stunned.

All of her children had held a baby, even Rickon. Eliana had held all of them, and she'd always been so happy to do so. She'd been so proud to be a big sister, smiling wide eyed whenever she saw her new sibling for the first time. She would never forget the look on her face when she'd first seen Robb, she'd been barely four, small and curious as ever… her father had let her into her chamber, and Lia had rushed to the bed only to crawl tentatively across it to be with her. "He looks like me," she had affirmed with a grin but then she grew serious, one that should never cross a child her age, "I won't let anyone hurt him."

Catelyn wondered if Lia had remembered that promise when she had been made to watch her brother die right before her eyes, and then she wondered if she'd felt the same when each of her siblings had been taken from her, each have been delivered the same promise upon their births.

"I wish Myrcella was here," Tommen said as he handed the baby back to Catelyn, a sad look crossing his face. "Alaric looks just like the dolls she used to play with when she was little…" He explained dully, "My Lady; we should be going if we are to have luncheon with your grandmother."

"Oh well," Margaery sighed deeply, reaching forward to squeeze Catelyn's hand before doing the same to Eliana, her grip lingered as they shared a smile. "I hope we speak again soon, I would very much like to do so." And soon they departed, leaving Catelyn and Eliana alone once again.

Catelyn sighs to herself as they walked along, everything was wrong... she is alive and her family is dead. She still had to grip onto something to keep herself from swaying whenever her mind drifts to her lost children.

"You must not think of that," Eliana snapped mercilessly, reading where her mind was going.

"What else is there to think of?" Catelyn replied as she stared into nowhere

They've grown so distant with each other. She and Eliana have been so inexplicably close. Even when she felt like she was alone, she had her daughter. When Ned was whisked away South from her, Eliana had stayed close by, she had been so afraid she would never see her husband again but Lia had stayed. Sansa held captive and Arya missing too... When news of Bran's and Rickon's deaths came to her, she wept into Robb's chest, holding him gently as he mourned their loss.

The arrows that were shot into Robb's chest may have well as severed her and Eliana as well. She never heard Eliana scream before, as she had when her brother was taken from her as he staggered to the ground, arrows dug deep into his skin, the King of the North.

_Who is thinking of them now?_

"You are right though." Catelyn cast her daughter a level look, but she didn't look at him, but her eyebrows twitched slightly. She felt her apprehension more than seeing it, felt it in the air as her daughter clenched her jaw. "There are other things we must think of now."

"Like what?"

Catelyn looked down at Alaric, sleeping peacefully in the comfort of her arms. "Like vengeance."

"What do you have in mind?" Eliana questioned in intrigue, her mood perking at her mothers confession she hadn't thought would leave her lips.

"I've got a plan I'm going to- "

Eliana cut her off, "No, let me do it... I can't have you risking your safety after I fought so hard to restore it."

Catelyn stared her daughter down, watching as she said nothing more as so she nodded. "I want you to kill him..." her mother whispered which made Eliana frown as she tried to understand what she was hearing, though her mother could be referring to a number of people. She never thought she'd hear the words fall from her lips, she never thought she would ask Eliana to do such a thing... but she trusted no one more than her first born.

Eliana looked to her slowly, "Who?"

"Tywin," Catelyn growled, her voice hardened like Valyrian steel. "I want him dead, I want Cersei dead, I want them  _all_  dead."

"Not that I don't appreciate your enthusiasm, mother but I've nothing to kill him with…" Eliana informed her mother, watching as Catelyn narrowed her gaze at her. Eliana felt her blood run cold on the inside, she had her own plans for Tywin, she wanted Winterfell and she wanted him to give it to her but her mother wanting him dead only complicate matters.

Catelyn, however, didn't seem so convinced by her daughter's words, and so she nodded to her daughter's sleeve. "Yes, you do… you keep it on you at all times, red like that Arbour Red wine you like."

"Oh, do I now?" Eliana questioned with worry, "You know how dangerous it is and I have Alaric to think about now..."

"He killed your brother, I should think that would be reason enough."

Rolling her eyes, Eliana sighed deeply, wondering when had her mother become such a siren for murder, for death of those who had wronged her family. "He won't let me near him, you know that as well as I."

Catelyn nodded in agreement, "Then you'll have to get close to him then, won't you?" She taunted lightly, rocking Alaric.

"How close?"

"All men have their weaknesses..." Catelyn held her daughter's gaze, noticing how grave it had become. She didn't need to tell her what lengths she would need to go to get to Tywin, she knew it wouldn't be easy but Eliana always liked a challenge.

"Mother, you wish me to dishonour our family when I have already done so by what I've done to us..." Eliana pleaded, not wanting to think of getting close to Tywin Lannister, the man who ordered her brother's death.

"You did what you had to do." Catelyn assured her but Eliana shook her head.

"No," Eliana breathed, "I've done plenty wrong, and I'm not proud of it... father would not be proud of it, he'd be disgusted to call me his daughter and I wouldn't blame him... for all I've done."

"Lia- "

Eliana shook her head again, "No, don't tell me I did what I did because of the war, I should have never gone with Jaime to King's Landing in the first place." She spat, clenching her fists in irritation. "And now, I've married the man I've loved for what a few years while another man wants me because I make him feel honourable when I have lost all honour I had." Eliana ranted in fury. "What have I done, apart from make matter's worse?"

Catelyn interrupted, "Lia, you must listen to me..."

"I don't deserve to bear the name Stark, I am an embarrassment to our ancestors, our family."

Catelyn felt astonished by Eliana's outburst, staring wide-eyed as she allowed her words to sink in, barely believed her daughter's statement. "Eliana, don't you dare!" She warned with a slight glower, "Yes, you've done things that not even I can believe but who am I to tell you how to live? I'm merely here to watch you grow, and once my time is up, I'll watch you from the heavens... you and your children." She pressed a kiss to Alaric's brow.

"Death would be the best honour to come my way..."

* * *

Tywin Lannister was thankful he had a steaming bath waiting for him as he ascended the long walk up the tower of the Hand; otherwise he might have fled at the temptation to retire to his chambers all together.

Once he finally ascended the stairs and could breathe normally again, he found that his breath was only stolen from him at the sight before him, an ugly one. He'd stationed two guards outside his chambers at all times, but now, his guards stood with their spears lodged fiercely in their chests, their limbs hanging loosely at their sides.

Tywin Lannister didn't get nervous, he made people throw up, caused their nerves to shatter and he did, most certainly, not get nervous.

With a deep sigh, he pushed open his door and glowered when the sickly warm temperature met his skin, almost making him sweat. But his attention soon shifted from the heat to fall upon something else, something much more enticing.

"Ah, so this is where you've hidden yourself..." Tywin narrowed his eyes, regarding the woman for a split second, before he dared to walk towards her, "in my bath."

Eliana instinctively raised her gaze at the sound of his voice, a faint look of surprise evident upon her features as she acknowledged her company. "Lord Tywin." Smirking, she couldn't help but feel somewhat successful at the undeniable curl of his lips that he tried to mask so well before they returned to their usual thin line. "I feared the water would grow cold..." With a sigh, she rose her leg from the depths of the water as watched the water fizzled away and how the lion's verdant gaze lingered.

Eliana smiled warmly, and let a soft sigh pass through her lips. "I apologise for your guards, they stood in my way you see..." She announced while he continued to stare at her. "And they refused to understand why I had come, so..."

"No matter." The old lion studied the young woman lying comfortably in his tub, green eyes narrowing into lustful slits as he took in the bare physic that lurked beneath the water. Discarded on the floor, he eyed a Lannister crimson silk gown,  _his_  crimson, with silver direwolves and golden suns dotted around the bodice. His desire increased when he took in her hair which had been gathered into a loose bun with tresses of auburn curls that framed her face.

"Help me up..." Eliana rose her hand into the air, her lips curling into a mirthful smirk. "If you'd be so kind."

Never having been one to withdraw from a challenge and if the amusing gleam sparkling within her eyes, she was indeed, challenging him - Tywin swiftly moved towards the tub, and took her offered hand though he wasn't close to close to render him uncomfortable but close enough to keep decorum between them both.

But even with his discipline, he failed to stop his eyes from wandering when she rose from the bath as they landed upon her breasts. He  _damned_  the woman.

"It is said to be improper to not look a lady in the eye, especially when conversing in such a situation as this, Tywin." Exiting the bath, Eliana stepped past him to gather her fallen dress.

Tywin almost growled at the insult as he turned to watch her dress, his gaze settling upon her own, "Then perhaps the Lady should refrain from prancing around my chambers so scantily if she doesn't want to be looked at like a harlot."

Eliana chuckled, waving her hand nonchalantly in a dismissive gesture, "I was under the impression that the Lord of Casterly Rock offered no second glances to any woman since the passing of his Lady wife," She pursed her lips, smiling mischievously. "But just look at you; you might as well rip of my dress and bend me over."

Tywin didn't bother trying to hold back his growl, feral from anger or lust he couldn't tell, perhaps both, as his imposing figure leaned towards Eliana, "I play rougher than what you'd expect from an old lion like me, Eliana." He hissed through gritted teeth, staring her directly in the eye.

"Oh," Eliana bit back a laugh, stepping towards so she was only a few inches away from him. "We can all play rough, Tywin." She replied, moving forwards still so that her lips settled on the corner of his mouth. "Invite me to dinner."

He laughed dryly, his eyes not leaving hers as she pulled away. "Invite you to dinner? Why would I do that?" He challenged, glaring slightly.

"How many enemies have you made during this war, Lord Tywin?"

"Enough to make every army in the Seven Kingdoms reconsider marching South to conquer what doesn't rightfully belong to them," He glowered darkly, trying to regain his control. "Now, would you leave?"

"When dead men and worse come after us... does it matter who sits on the Iron Throne?" She stood firmly, her eyes boring into Tywin's own. "You don't have the right to address me that way; you'll have to be more polite to me if you want any respect from the North, if you want any peace... and especially if you want our agreement to last."

He stopped. "What did you say?"

"Invite me to dinner."


	53. Coax or hoax

Usually, when Tywin would awake, he wouldn't feel anything; his eyes would open, and his mind would begin its usual rotation of work, sharp and unparalleled as ever. He supposed that was the norm after the wars he'd fought in, it was an adapted way of awakening for him - immediate functioning defined the difference between life and death, and after all, he'd survived it all.

Tywin confessed it rather odd or enitrely remarkable that he'd awoke from his slumber feeling a lot different from when he commonly awoke from his usual procedure... it was gradual yet restrained, and at first, he felt a calm, warm heaviness that was accompanied by some kind of satisfaction. He'd be lying to himself, if he said he was used to satisfaction those days, but he needed a moment to realise that before he began to feel uneasy about it.

"What's wrong with me?" He huffed, lifting his head as the immediate feeling of dizziness overcame him though, he didn't give into the weakness and hoisted himself up into a sitting position. He thought that the sound of a door had been the reason for his awakening, but he was alone.

To his growing confusion, the Lion noticed that his sheets and cushions on the bed were in complete disarray - far more than even a nightmare of Joanna's death would have brought upon him.

His green eyes widened in lack of understanding, breathing in deeply once and caught the distinct smell... the smell of femininity and of sex, he could smell it all over himself. Come to think of it - he was naked under the covers and he  _never_  did such a thing.

Tywin didn't understand. He had lain with a woman, and a woman had passed the night with him... in his own bed? "What on earth happened?" he asked himself, allowing his confusion to lead his head, his mind.

"Well, I asked myself the same question..." Eliana breathed, smiling as Tywin's head flew in her direction as she opened his windows to let some air into the chamber. "I'd wager you shared your bed with a certain lady of the night..."

Tywin immediately pulled the cover up so they covered his waist, and protected his dignity. "What are you doing in here?"

"Your door was wide open."

Tywin scoffed, looking to his wooden door with a glare. "So you thought you'd walk right on into my private chambers?" he asked incredulously, his eyes widening still.

"I bumped into Varys and he mentioned you weren't present at the Small Council meeting this morning that your daughter called, so I sought you out..." She informed him with a glint in her eye, nodding to his naked form. "And I must say, I am very surprised." She sniffed the air, "Smell that?" Tywin narrowed his gaze at her. "It's that whore stench."

"Right, you've had your fun- " Eliana cut him off as he went to stand.

"Have I?" Eliana countered with a frown, watching as he slipped free from the bed. "On contrary, my fun has just begun. I've found you, the mighty Tywin Lannister, in a rather compromising position with his bed disarray..." She eyed his naked form, watching as he pulled his sheets up further. "What could have caused you to resort to inviting a whore into your chambers?"

"I don't recall doing such a thing." Tywin argued

Eliana stared at him, leaning forward to smell him briefly, smiling when she could the smell of Arbour Red. "It seems to me that you got a little carried away with the wine last night, are you taking a leaf out of Tyrion's books?" She teased.

"Don't you dare lower me standards to that mongrel."

She stepped back at his tone, frowning darkly as she grasped the robe set down beside her which she knew was what Tywin wanted. "He's your son... how could you say such a thing?" She pressed, feeling the sense of guilt she knew Tywin should be sharing with her. "How can you continue to blame him for something he was unintentionally responsible for? Should I blame Jon for enticing my father to lay with his mother for a night?" Eliana challenged defiantly, "No, because I have grown to love Jon despite his name and the means of his arrival, I don't care where he comes from... blood is blood."

Tywin glowered at her, reaching forward to snatch his robe from her grasp, "You wouldn't understand... he never killed the person you loved most, the only person you would have done anything for, the only person you would have died for... you don't know the full story but because he's a dwarf, you pity him.  _He killed his mother_."

Eliana rolled her eyes discreetly, folding her arms across her chest. "Joanna's death- "

But Tywin would hear none of it, "Joanna was my wife,  _my wife_ , and he murdered her so he could live... where's the fairness in that? My Lady wife died so he could live and what has he done with his life? Drunk and whored his way to an early end!" roared Tywin as he descended on Eliana, wanting to strike fear into her heart of ice. "He doesn't deserve to live for all he's done."

Eliana was taken aback by his abruptness in addressing the matter she'd placed before him. "Your memory escapes you, your grandson did take away the first man I loved, he had my father executed... and Roose Bolton murdered my brother and his unborn child,  _my niece or nephew_ , just so he could have the North to himself without having to worry about any future rebellions and you could rule the Seven Kingdoms in serenity once more." She paused, feeling the scar on the left side of her face become taut. "If I am honest with you, I am not entirely certain I can face another heartbreak."

Tywin said nothing and merely gaped at her.

"Each night I'm unable to sleep because I believe it unfair that I'm alive while they're both dead..." Eliana ground out, her jaw clenched. "When I was resurrected from the dead, I curse bloody Bedric Dondarrion and Thoros of Myr for doing such a thing, for I was stuck in a world without  _them_... and for each of their deaths, I was helpless to save them." She stared blankly at him, "No matter how much I wanted to give my life for their's I knew I couldn't, I couldn't leave my mother alone in this world, leave her to more grievance she didn't deserve... _I_  took the coward's way out."

The Hand of the King was at a loss for words, never had he expected such an outburst of remorse or guilt to come from the girl whom he considered his equal. He narrowed his eyes, and for a second she looked like she was on the verge of tears but he couldn't be sure because of her blue eyes... he always though blue eyes were beautiful but never had he seen a pair so hypnotizing as Eliana's. "Surely others were to blame, not only you should be accountable for their fates." He assured her, though it did very little. "However, I want you to leave."

"But what about what I want..." Eliana begun, frowning in question. "I swore I would give my life for their's, yet, here I stand quite alive while they're dead." Eliana closed her eyes and sucked in a sharp breath, "I would give anything to have been killed in their stead, anything for them to live but here I am, talking to you in your chambers while you stand naked under your robe, barely struggling to find a sense of clarity."

Reaching for her dirk, she pulled it free and held it out to him in offering. "Do it." She urged dully, staring wide-eyed at him. "Kill me, I know you want to above all else, here's your chance...  _do it_."

Taking the dirk from her, Tywin sighed deeply, shaking his head in disbelief. "Eliana, you're smarter than that... I have no intention of killing you." He returned the dirk to its usual place on her scabbard.

She closed her eyes in frustration, clenching her fists. "I  _should_  be happy, I  _deserve_  to be happy... where's my happiness in all of this?"

Tywin scowled at her as he stood towering above her, his nakedness finally concealed and what was left of his dignity revived. "You have a child, a husband - there's your happiness, you should be happy for them as you went out of my convenience to get them." He commented dryly, watching her closely.

"That is my duty!" Eliana argued fiercely, staring him down as a small smirk was strewn across his lips. "I should be in Dorne with them or with my family in Winterfell but instead, here I am stuck in this stinking shit pile of a city once again."

"That's what you and I call tough luck." Tywin concluded to her annoyance and discomfort.

Shaking her head, Eliana looked away from him, feeling the fire rise within her veins. "No, I call it betrayal..." She spoke though it came out more like a hiss, sharp and venomous on her tongue. "I should be teaching little Rickon his stances, teaching him to fire an arrow correctly, to use a sword..."

Nodding, Tywin shared her sadness, truly he did... he'd also envied Ned Stark and his big family, if Joanna had lived he would have had more children with her. "That's the consequences of war, people die." Tywin knew his mistake, Brandon and Rickon Stark didn't deserve to die in his war, they were just children but neither did his wife, his lovely wife. Ned Stark didn't deserve his death either, he had Cersei admit to that mistake... he didn't agree with most of it, but most of it had been necessary. "Eliana I- "

He witnessed her eyes hardened to their usual steely enclosure as she regarded him, "Grand Maester Pycelle is looking for you also." She informed him which only made him let out an inaudible groan of exhaustion before she swiftly strode from the room to leave him on his own.

Eliana was satisfied she'd yet again got under Tywin's skin by using only words as her weapon... but in the process, she'd been injured by his own exterior in trying to project her own onto him. But Tywin was wrong... none of her family deserved to be dead courtesy of such a foolish conflict, she should be happy with her family surrounding her, and life should be how it was.

In the distance, she could hear her name leave his lips a few more times before Tywin's dulcet tones dissolved all together in the silence of the morning. She would run and he would continue to chase her for as long she wished him to do so because she had enticed the mighty Tywin.

"Where is your mind this morning, my lady?" Eliana almost jumped when she saw the plump face of Tommen with a rather concerned looking Margaery on his arm, smiling worriedly at her as she passed him with Jaime strolling behind him without Ser Meryn thankfully. "You seem rather... distant?"

Eliana sighed deeply, her eyes momentarily flicking to Jaime who didn't return her gaze. "Your grandfather knows how to push my buttons, Your Grace." She announced truthfully, her fingers encircling her scaled ring as she clenched her jaw.

"Oh, I'm fairly certain he doesn't mean to offend, Lia."

Scoffing, Eliana shook her head at Tommen as they rounded a corner before continuing their venture towards the throne room, where the beginnings of the court had already gathered. "I'll only believe that when I see it."

"How are you?" Margaery questioned suddely, her hand enclosing around Eliana's own as she stared her closely.

Eliana smiled briefly, "I'm fine." It was a lie, and Margaery knew it but didn't question it.

Tommen nodded in understanding, "Well, how is your little fellow doing?" Tommen grinned sweetly, his hand falling upon her arm as they walked. "He is truly a handsome prince, I must say... Margaery thinks so, and so, I simply  _must_  agree - wouldn't you say so, uncle Jaime?"

Finally aroused from his stature, Jaime merely registered the request. "Yes, Your Grace... little Alaric is indeed a true beauty, one of impeccable bloodlines I would say."  _Much more so if he'd been born a Lannister..._ Jaime replied with a slight strain to his voice, as his sword clanked against his armour.

Eliana smiled at the subject of her son, "Yes, he is indeed."

"My uncle stands trial today."

"So I've heard," Eliana agreed with a faint frown. "And word has it I am his only witness."

Tommen bowed his head immediately, before he slowly glanced up to meet her eye as they continued. "And does he not terrify you, a Kingslayer? He murdered his king, and that, the most severe punishment is necessary." Tommen affirmed with a meek frown tracing his brow. "How do you not fear him?"

"It is troubling to see, Lia..." Margaery added quietly, her arm looping through Eliana's instead of Tommen's as they walked.

 _So did your Lord Commander..._ Shrugging, Eliana smiled softly at his words. "A wolf fears nothing," She told him with a determined expression, watching as the court lined up to enter the throne room, bowing at Tommen as he approached.

"But- but everyone fears something?" Tommen challenged, not understanding her statement, smiling and wavering to court in greeting.

Eliana gritted her teeth, "I have seen so much horror, that I don't believe fear to be real any more." That was the truth, there was nothing left that scared her, she'd seen it all... and still, she knew there was more to come her way.

The boy nodded, "Then I shall not question it, I'll simply take your word for it... this war has caused us all such pain, myself among them." Tommen winced at his own words, seeing her husband step into view, wearing a warm smile upon his features.

"If you'll excuse me Your Grace, Lady Margaery, Ser Jaime," Eliana bowed her head gracefully, moving out of Margaery's grasp carefully. "I must speak with my husband- "

Tommen grasped her arm, clinging tightly to her as she paused in her walking and looked back at him. "The trial is about to start, and he will serve as a judge along with my good-father-to-be and grandfather..."

Eyes widening, Eliana gaped at Tommen at his sudden confession. "Oberyn is serving as a judge?" She repeated cautiously, the news registering slowly within her mind while she looked to her husband with a soft look of betrayal that Oberyn sensed as he brow deepened in concern.

"Relax," Tommen murmured from behind her, noticing the glare his mother was giving Eliana. "Please don't be angry with him, it was my idea, if it is anyone you should be mad with... then bestow your anger upon me." He then saw how rigid she'd become at his mere touch, pulling away quickly as he grasped her arm in the tight clutches of his lion paws. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, my lady."

She didn't bother correcting him; there was no actual point and neither did she care. "Very little makes me uncomfortable, I am shocked is all." She replied as she avoided Margaery's sympathetic stare.

Jaime scoffed, causing her eyes to dart in his direction and still upon him. "I would wager that true," He informed her, watching her critically as she held very still. "Married to the Red Viper of Dorne, you must have a great tolerance for such a sex pest."

The quick flare in her eyes, the tightening and thinning of her lips, was all the warning he got before Eliana clasped her hands tightly behind her back but yet, she said nothing.

"Hit a sensitive spot, did I Lia?" Jaime taunted with a chuckle as he winked at her, ignoring the look Tommen was giving him as he tormented her for all the court to see. He knew she knew he didn't mean a word of it, but she'd told him to stay away and if that mean the was to insult her, he would do so to make people believe such a lie for he couldn't help but love her.

Eliana blinked and stepped around Tommen and Margaery as Ser Meryn joined their company. "It's Princess Eliana to you, Kingslayer." She stated coldly, glowering darkly at him as Jaime allowed his gaze to fall upon her lips, licking his own as he stared transfixed at the sight. "Deep down, I see you for who you are.." She muttered in a low snarl that seemed more wolf than human.

Jaime's hands crept forward and pulled her against him, securing her arm as he leant towards her ear. "And I always thought Lady Lannister suited you so much better..." He whispered gently, his jaw brushing her cheek as he delicately laid his lips upon the area of skin closest to him. His movements, however, made her retreat immediately.

Confused at the scene that had unfolded before him, Tommen watched the pair's interaction and then stared as his perplexity grew once Eliana was stalking away from them towards were Oberyn stood waiting for her, his hand held out in offering. But when he looked back at his uncle, he noticed something with his gaze and he couldn't quite put his finger on it but... he recognised it. He'd definitely seen it, he was so sure.

Was it love? Devotion? Affection?

Tommen decided then and there to not beat around the bush, "Uncle, do you love Lia?" He asked softly, watching as Jaime's mouth twitched and then slightly curled at his words which only supported his assumption. He did love her... but he couldn't - she was married!

"I think he may, my love." Margaery's voice announced whilst Tommen nodded.

He could see it as his uncle stared as Eliana and Oberyn when they embraced and when they kissed, he could see how he wished to be in the place of the man who had stolen her from him... he wanted her devotion, her love... her heart. Committing the observation to memory, Tommen also decreed that he would coax his uncle's feeling for her free in order to see if he you better both their lives but more so, Jaime's. Though in that moment, Tommen's mind could only settle upon one thought; could he make his deepest desires come true?

Watching as Jaime's eyes followed after his wife, Oberyn glowered darkly and tilted his head down to her ear. "I want to know what has happened since you and I have been apart, my love." Oberyn ordered, clutching her hand securely in his. "Is your mother watching Alaric with Obara?"

Eliana nodded softly, "She offered..." she answered quietly with a sigh, "Oberyn, what you will hear I- I know you will not like, it is best if it is left in the past." She explained with a shake of her head.

"You will tell me," Oberyn frowned, watching her sharply. "And then I will rid Westeros of that golden lion, first I will take his eyes- "

"To which of my relatives do you want to kill now, Prince Oberyn?" Both Oberyn and Eliana glanced side wards, to see Tywin stalking over to them while sporting a dark look that Eliana assumed was for her disturbing his rest this morning. "My son, my daughter, my nephew... myself?"

Oberyn smirked, looking at Eliana as a glint glittered within his eye. "I was merely expressing to my wife that I don't appreciate the look your son - Ser Jaime - was giving her as she left your nephew." he paused, "As you know, I am immensely protective over what is mine, and I believe he needs to reminded."

Tywin scowled, "By taking my son's eyes?"

"That would be a start."

Gradually, Tywin's eyes fell upon Eliana's face but he saw her attention wasn't even on him, she was staring off in some other direction. "My princess, I hope that from now on you will refrain from walking into my chambers unannounced to inform me that Grand Maester Pycelle is looking for me..." Tywin commented, watching as Oberyn's eyes widened. "Prince Oberyn, I trust you will keep you wife in line."

Eliana's snapped to Tywin in fury, "Your door was wide open- "

But before she could conclude with her argument, a herald flew through the doors and bowed to the crowds. "My lords and ladies of the court, if you would please settle yourself in the stalls provided." He gestured to the entrance to the throne room, where the crowds had already begun to rush to. "The trial will begin shortly."

* * *

The hollering of names didn't bother him, being called such things wouldn't effect him at all for he did not kill Joffrey and all these people were too blind to see through the farce. He was the pawn in the game of cyvasse that no one had bothered to inform was in play, he couldn't understand why he was always the blame for whatever went wrong in Cersei's picturesque life.

Yes, he bloody hated Joffrey, that much was true but never would he go as far to murder the boy to just get back at all the physical and mental abuse his mother had forced upon... children shouldn't be punished for the sins of their parents.

The walk was long from his cell to his little box that had been erected in the center of the room. He couldn't ignore the ache in his legs as he marched ahead of the guards that carried his chains to ensure he would not escape, though he knew he would never be able to do that. When he eventually reached the box, and when they insisted on chaining him to it, he could suppress his sigh of irritation at the lengths they were going to keep in him the damn thing.

Looking to his left, he sighed again when he caught sight of the long line of witnesses that had been rallied against him and the mere witness that was standing for him. He never understood why Eliana was so desperate to save his life, so many had tried to rid him of it, and he would be grateful it someone would actually get the job done for once, but she seemed determined to keep him alive...  _why?_   _What value does my life hold in the game of thrones?_

Tyrion continued to glance around the room, until Tommen stood and the entire presence in the room stood to attention, causing the dwarf to glance back at his nephew.

"I, Tommen of the House Baratheon, First of my Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, do hereby recuse myself from this trial." he announced to the room, his hands sweating as he clasped them behind his back, glancing to his left to see his grandfather glowering at Eliana who was stood to his right. "Tywin of the House Lannister, Hand of the King, Protector of the Realm, will sit as judge in my stead. And with him Prince Oberyn of the House Martell and Lord Mace of the House Tyrell." Tommen informed the court gravely, his eyes not breaking away from Tyrion's own. "And if found guilty... may the gods punish the accused." Tyrion winced at his words while Tommen charged off with his Kingsguard following swiftly, clanking away.

Tywin moved towards the throne with Mace seizing his own chair while Oberyn sauntered to his on the far side, making no rush to reach it as he smirked at his wife from where she stood just a few seats away.

Tywin coughed, drawing Oberyn's attention back to him as they all sat together, the rest of the court copied their actions and resumed their seats. "Tyrion of the House Lannister, you stand accused by the Queen Regent of regicide." Tywin commenced with an irritated tone to his voice that floated coolly throughout the room. "Did you kill King Joffrey?"

Tyrion closed his eyes, glancing towards the floor of his box, his hands rattling in agitation as he slouched in his seat. "No." He shook his head.

"Did your wife, the Lady Sansa?"

He shrugged with a small smile playing upon his lips as he met his father's gaze. He could see it lying within his verdant eyes, his own father knew he was innocent and still, he did nothing to banish a trial that wasn't necessary. "Not that I know of."

Tywin narrowed his eyes at his son, "How would you say he died, then?" He pressed with a glower.

"Choked on his pigeon pie." Tyrion asserted, causing Jaime's head to snap in his direction while murmurs broke out in the room.

"So you would blame the bakers?" Tywin concluded irritably.

Tyrion rolled his eyes and let a sigh pass his lips, "Or the pigeons." He countered, looking down once again. "Just leave me out of it."

Making himself comfortable for what Tywin was sure was to be quite a long trial, he settled against the back of the throne and sighed deeply, "The crown may call its first witness." He proclaimed, settling into the throne, knowing that Tyrion wouldn't give in quite so easily.

And the same thought floating across everyone's mind: the trial would last for a long while but whether the truth would be untold was inevitable.

Meryn Trant was a bastard bought by Lannister gold to follow Cersei's bidding, everyone knew what he was yet they were all so scared to admit it to those who could do something, threatened with the fear of death. Though the Kingsguard did look quite amusing with his new scar sat across his cheek given from Eliana's wrath.

"... Once we'd got King Joffrey safely away from the mob, the Imp rounded on him." Meryn glanced back at Tyrion, an evil smirk crossing his face. "He slapped the king across the face and called him a vicious idiot and a fool." At his words, the crowd gasped in shock while Tyrion lounged in his box. "It wasn't the first time the Imp threatened our King. Right here in this throne room, he marched up those steps and called our king a halfwit, compared His Grace to the Mad King and suggested he'd meet the same fate." Meryn looked back once again. "And when I spoke in the king's defense, he threatened to have me killed."

Having heard enough, Tyrion erupted in fury, wanting nothing more than to watch Meryn's head fall from his miserable shoulders if it meant the man would quieten. "Oh, why don't you tell them what Joffrey was doing?" He raged, glowering at the Kindsguard.

"Silence."

But Tyrion barely heard him and so continued with his reply, wanting to show the court who Meryn Trant truly was. "Pointing a loaded crossbow at Sansa Stark while you tore at her clothes and beat her." He exclaimed madly, his eyes flickering to Eliana who was watching him. "Just ask Lady Eliana,  _Princess Eliana_... she witnessed the cunt tearing her sister's gown."

" _Silence!_ " Tywin roared as Tyrion settled back down and glared. "You will not speak unless called upon... you're dismissed, Ser Meryn." He announced as the Kingsguard took his leave immediately..

As if the trial couldn't get any worse, the next witness came forth and just so happened to be Grand Maester Pycelle who hobbled to the witness box with a grumble of supposed pain.

"You are the Grand Maester are you not?" Tywin called to the man with the haggard beard before him who gave a nod in confirmation. "Was it without question poison that killed him?"

"Without question." Pycelle agreed sharply.

"You were the one who identified the poison used to kill King Joffrey, could you please list the poisons in your stores."

"Greycap," he said with a quavery voice, narrowing his eyes at the paper in his hand. "Nightshade, sweetsleep, demon's dance. Blindeye... and wolfsbane, also basilisk venom, and the tears of Lys, I -"

Oberyn rolled his eyes as he interrupted the Maester, "I think you have made your point, Grand Maester... you have a lot of poison in your store." He said for everyone's sake as he crossed his legs, tilting his head lazily.

" _Had_ , Prince Oberyn... my stores were plundered, you see." Pycelle grumbled, the paper he held shaking in his hands.

Tywin sat forward on the throne, his brow still narrowed suspiciously. "By whom?" He requested evenly.

"By the accused." He looked to Tyrion and sighed. "The Imp Tyrion Lannister stole them when he had my falsely imprisoned while serving as Hand of the King... he had no- "

"Which poisons?"

"Widow's blood, named for its colour, a cruel poison it is." Pycelle croaked out with his raspy voice, staggering slightly in his box. "You see, it shuts down a man's bladder and bowels until he drowns in his own poisons..."

"Grand Maester," Tywin called out, hoping to stop the man in his tracks. "You examined King Joffrey's corpse. Could any of these poisons choke a man to death?"

"No, for that you must turn to a rarer poison. So rare it requires extreme prowess in the act of producing such a poison, made from plants only found in the Jade Sea,  _the Strangler_."

"But this rare poison was not found, was it?"

"Oh, yes it was, my Lord." Pycelle corrected him, blinking before reaching into his sleeve to withdraw something. "This was found on the body of Dontos Hollard, the king's fool. He was last seen spiriting Sansa Stark, the wife of the accused, away from the feast." He paused to lift the necklace he held for all to see. "She wore this necklace the day of the wedding. Residue of a most rare and terrible poison was found inside."

"Was this one of the poisons stolen from your store?" Tywin asked.

Pycelle gave a nod of his head, "It was. The Strangler; a poison few in the Seven Kingdoms possess and used to strike down the most noble child the gods ever put on this good earth." he finished, looking back at Tyrion who shook his head in disgust, bowing his head.

Oberyn let his head fall to his right where his eyes fell upon his wife, who was staring with her brow furrowed at Tyrion who looked so helpless in that box of his while they all played along with the farce.

"The crown may call its next witness." Tywin ordered, watching as his daughter rose from her chair and strode forward, cloaked in black. Once she took her place, Tywin sighed. "You may give the evidence that supports your claim that Tyrion Lannister is guilty of regicide, the murder of your son King Joffrey Baratheon."

"He once said,  _"I will hurt you for this. A day will come when you think you are safe and happy and your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth and you will know the debt is paid."_ " Cersei recited as she gripped the witness box, tearing welling in her eyes while she willed the court to believe her tale.

Mace finally spoke then, leaning forward in shock. "Your own brother said this to you?" he spoke in disbelief.

Cersei nodded, "Shortly before the Battle of Blackwater Bay. I confronted him about his plans to put Joffrey on the front lines. As it turned out, when the attack came, Joff insisted on remaining at the battlements, h- he believed his presence would inspire the troops." She managed, staring into the ground as she spoke, not bearing to look anyone in the eye.

"Tyrion said,  _"And you will know the debt is paid."_ " Oberyn repeated, clasping his hands together as he watched Cersei. "What debt?"

"I discovered he'd been keeping whores in the Tower of the Hand. I asked him to confine his salacious acts to the brothel where such behavior belongs." Cersei replied, finally raising her gaze to meet Oberyn's own. "He wasn't pleased."

Mace took over suddenly, still leaning forward in his chair and wearing a warm smile. "Thank you, Your Grace, for the courage of your testimony." And with that, Cersei escaped her box and returned to her seat, a small smirk evident on her lips as her gaze graced Tyrion.

Next came Varys, who too, had been bought by the Lannisters to stand as witness for Cersei rather than Tyrion.

"Do you remember the precise nature of this threat?" questioned Mace, tilting his head in the direction of eunuch as he spoke.

Varys let out a deep breath, "I'm afraid I do, my lord. He said,  _"Perhaps you should speak more softly to me, then. Monsters are dangerous and just now kings are dying like flies."_ " Varys performed which caused the court to erupt in mutters.

Mace frowned at his words, "And he said this to you at a meeting of the small council?"

"Yes." Varys agreed with a curt nod of his bald head. "After we received word of Robb Stark's death... though, he didn't seem gladdened by the news so perhaps his marriage to Sansa Stark had made him more sympathetic to the northern cause." Varys explained, leading to more mutters that swam around the entire court.

Tywin nodded, "You're excused, Lord Varys." He called.

Varys turned to leave until Tyrion's voice rang out through the air to make him stop. "Father, may I ask the witness one question?" Tyrion requested, looking up at Tywin determinedly.

"One." Tywin granted reluctantly.

Tyrion slowed turned to his so-called friend, "You once said that without me, this city would have faced certain defeat. You said the histories would never mention me, but you would not forget." Tyrion recovered from his memory, pausing to maintain his anger. "Have you forgotten, Lord Varys?" He added.

"Sadly, my lord, I never forget a thing." Varys concluded, turning to bow to Tywin while he fled the scene as Tyrion watched him go.

"We will adjourn for now." Tywin rose to his feet suddenly with Oberyn and Mace following shortly. "Toll the bells in an hour's time."

"Clear the court!" Hollered the herald.

Moving away from the court, Tywin's eyes fell upon Eliana who had risen and moved to where her husband stood smiling at her. Seizing her wrist, Tywin pulled on her arm so she would turned to face him. "I would very much like to speak with you, Eliana." He offered his arm to her.

Oberyn nodded as his wife followed Tywin against her will but made no protest as she accepted his arm. "I was under the impression we were to have dinner, not luncheon." She complained, dryly.

"I'm not inviting you to luncheon." Tywin replied sternly, eyeing Eliana as they walked along.

Eliana rolled her eyes, "And here's me looking forward to your company..." She breathed in disbelief, following him through the to the small council chamber. Eyeing the pitcher of wine, Eliana immediately let go of his arm. "Would you like a drink?"

Frowning, Tywin closed the door and nodded. "Yes, go on then." He then started towards a chair where a plate of food had been lain before.

Reaching for the pitcher, Eliana sighed though it sounded for like a hiss as she reached into the inside pocket of her tunic and managed to make it look as though she was scratching her chest.

"Everything all right?" Tywin called as Eliana looked over at him to see him sat in his chair.

"It seems Bolton's souvenir is giving me some grief as it normally does as of late." She commented, retrieving a small vile that she clasped tightly and popped off the lid to tip into a cup she had named Tywin's. "An unwelcome gift if you will," She added, pouring the Arbour red into both cups and watching as the contents of the vile mixed wonderful with the wine.

Turning swiftly, Eliana almost jumped out of her skin when she saw him lingering over her, barely managing to refrain from crushing the glass vial within her grasp as she shoved it between the hem of her trousers so that her tunic covered it discretely. "Only just this morning were your damning me for invading personal space," She rose his cup which he took from her mutely.

Watching her quietly, Tywin took a swig of the wine before clearing his throat. "Does it still pain you?"

"Oh, how quaint of you, to worry for my well being."

Smirking, Tywin backed away from Eliana and returned to his seat, where he began to pick at his food. "Well, his men have marked you for life." Tywin spoke softly, "It's a shame really, your beauty apparently challenged that of my daughter's."

"Sorry- " Eliana frowned, taking a sip of her own wine as she lent against the table in intrigue. "Was that a compliment or a critique?"

Tywin smiled, "Oh, I ensure you, your beauty still lingers... my son is positively bewitched by you despite your look." He informed to his own surprise, finding he'd lost control of his words which roused a pleasant smirk from Eliana.

"As is my husband."

Tywin scoffed, "But you love my son."

Eliana narrowed her eyes at him, steering forward as she plucked free a grape from his plate. "Do I now?" She taunted sweetly, glowering softly at him. "I think your son is handsome, and yes, he acquires my attention without fail but I am married, and I love Oberyn."

"Do you not regret not being Lady Lannister of Casterly Rock rather than another Princess of Dorne?" Tywin tormented, "I know I would prefer the former than the latter, great power comes with Casterly Rock."

"Power can't buy you everything."

Tywin stilled when her steely eyes met his, and he recalled that he always thought blue eyes to be beautiful, but as he stared into Eliana's gaze, all he saw was the sharpness of the cold, hard north. Rising slowly, Tywin took another swig of his drink before he seized her jaw when she went to move away.

Eliana didn't like having her chin held, but she couldn't look away from his eyes without being branded feeble. She felt hypnotized as she glowered into his verdant stare. His soft, dangerous voice only made it worse. "I know what you did." He murmured.

"Oh, and what was that?" Eliana smiled dangerously, licking her lips. " _What did I do?_ "

Suddenly, the door swung open as it made a clangorous clatter against the wall. "You'd condemn your own son to death?!" Jaime shouted incredulously as he charged into the room, halting sharply as the scene before him as Tywin let go of Eliana's chin but she remained staring him down.

Tywin, however, rolled his eyes and looked to Jaime who was watching them both with wide-eyes. "Unhand her." his son blurted, moving forward and grasping Eliana's arm and pulling her behind him protectively. "What are you doing?" Glaring at his father, Jaime took her hand into his left one as he stood between them.

Ignoring his questione, Tywin chose to answer his earlier one to his son's annoyance and his own amusement. "I've condemned no one, the trial is not over." He announced, settling back into his chair.

Jaime's glare didn't soften, if anything, it hardened. "This isn't a trial. It's a farce... Cersei has manipulated everything and you know it." He accused, feeling the warmth of Eliana's breath at his neck which made him curse for having had his hair cut.

Tywin rolled his eyes again, "I know nothing of the sort."

"You've always hated Tyrion." Jaime asserted, feeling her warmth settle within him as he felt her behind him, pressed against his back.

"He killed his king."

"As did I!" Jaime roared, making Eliana hold him back as he went for his father. "Do you know the last order the Mad King gave me? To bring him your head. I saved your life so you could murder my brother?" Jaime questioned in betrayal, his jaw clenching in irritation as his father didn't look remotely bothered.

"It won't be murder, it'll be justice."

Eliana scoffed at his words, "Justice?" She repeated in outrage.

Tywin sighed, straightening himself in his chair. "I'm performing my sworn duty as Hand of the King..." He explained dully, watching the pair of them with a small frown. "If Tyrion is found guilty, he will be punished accordingly."

"He'll be executed." Jaime seethed through gritted teeth.

"No, he'll be punished accordingly." Tywin argued with a rough glower.

Briefly glancing at Eliana, Jaime sighed before meeting his father's eyes again. "Once you said family is what lives on.  _All that lives on._  You told me about a dynasty that would last a thousand years. What happens to your dynasty when Tyrion dies?" Jaime paused, seeing the clogs work away in his father's head. "I'm a Kingsguard, forbidden by oath to carry on the family line."

Tywin nodded, "I'm well aware of your oath."

"What happens to your name? Who carries the lion banner into future battles?  _Your nephews? Lancel Lannister?_ " He listed which only seemed to anger his father further. "Others whose names I don't even remember? What happens to my dynasty if I spare the life of my grandson's killer?" Jaime watched his father as his remained silent but the anger was steaming from within. "It survives through me. I'll leave the Kingsguard, I'll take my place as your son and heir if you let Tyrion live." He vowed, feeling Eliana squeeze his hand comfortingly.

"Done." Tywin's voice immediately sounded. "When the testimony's concluded and a guilty verdict rendered, Tyrion will be given the chance to speak. He'll plead for mercy and I'll allow him to join the Night's Watch, for which in three days' time, he'll depart for Castle Black and live out his days at the Wall." Tywin informed Jaime precisely and without fail. " _You'll_  remove your white cloak immediately, you  _will_  leave King's Landing to assume your rightful place at Casterly Rock. You  _will_  marry a suitable woman and father children named Lannister and  _you'll_  never turn your back on your family again."

As much as it pained him, knowing he would never wed Eliana, never feel her again, never kiss her body again... "You have my word." He bowed his head in defeat of his father's agreement.

"And you have mine." his father nodded as the bells tolled once again, alerting them all that the trial was about to resume.

Turning, Jaime refused to face his father with the fear he would do something he would regret, like... well he didn't know precisely but he knew it wouldn't be good for either of them. He then went to pull Eliana out with him, but she remained and resisted his pulling of her arm. "I look very much forward to dining with you, name the night and I will be there."

"I cannot wait." Tywin let out with a frown, rising to his feet one they had both left the room and to him to his peace, what little he had of it.

Walking side-by-side, Jaime smiled at their interlocked hands as he led her along in contentment. "I will marry you," Jaime vowed to her with a grin. "If anything should happen to your husband, I will be there for you and I will take you as my wife and hope to restore happiness into your life."

Eliana chuckled at his promise, "If Oberyn should pass, I doubt my heart will be worth saving... and I doubt my heart will be worth running after once I'm north, fighting a war than needs to be settled."

Jaime stopped suddenly and made her look him in the eye, "I have loved you, and my wasted heart shall continue to love until it beats no more, and if Oberyn should ever fail in his duty as your husband, and your protector..." He paused momentarily, "I will always be here, waiting for you."

"Jaime," She swallowed thickly, unable to meet his gaze. "You must marry someone worthy of you, and as sad as it may be, that person is not me." Turning her back on him, she walked to where Tyrion was sat waiting for the trial resume and for his fate to be judged. "Tyrion..."

Tyrion sighed at his brother and Lia, "Not going well, is it?" He breathed in apprehensiveness as the court slowly returned themselves to their seats eagerly, though both could tell her was terrified of what was to come.

"You're going to be found guilty." Jaime said.

Tyrion let out a laugh in disbelief at his brother's statement, " _Oh, you think so?_ " He questioned with a wide-eyed gaze.

Jaime quickly glanced around the room, "When you are, you need to enter a formal plea for mercy and ask to be sent to the Wall. Father's agreed to it... he'll spare your life and allow you to join the Night's Watch." He vowed gravely, allowing his own worry to grow for his brother.

Tyrion shook his head, not believing what he was hearing. "Ned Stark was promised the same thing and we both know how that turned out..."

"Your father is not Joffrey thank the gods." Eliana commented in annoyance, knowing exactly what Tyrion was referring to; Joffrey hadn't kept his word when he'd promised to spare her father's life, he betrayed the trust of those around him. "He'll keep his word."

"How do you know?" He pleaded earnestly, glancing between the both of them with a concerned gaze.

"Do you trust me? Do you trust Lia?" Jaime pressed, watching as he nodded reluctantly before he moved away from his brother. "Keep your mouth shut. No more outbursts... this will all be over soon."

Once Jaime had moved, Eliana leant towards Tyrion's ear. "The only way for you to escape this, is if you call for a trial by combat for which I will be your champion...  _I promise_." She whispered hurriedly.

Tyrion's mouth feel agape at her words, "You would do that? For me?  _Why?_ "

"I..." Eliana let out a sigh of defeat, and reached for his hands which she delivered a soft squeeze. "I have a soft spot for cripples, bastards, and broken things."

Soon, she retreated back to her seat and stood waiting as Tywin moved towards his own, sitting down which allowed the entire court to take their seats as well. "The crown may call its next witness..." He commanded, glancing around the room.

The herald nodded, "Princess Eliana," Upon hearing her name, Eliana rose from her chair and begun to journey to the witness box which stood before the glowering eye of the mighty lion himself.

"State your name."

She rolled her eyes but answered, "Eliana Stark, first-born daughter of Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn Tully, heir to Winterfell." She recited with a grim line, finding no happiness or contentment in the name anymore.

"You stand witness for the accused." Tywin announced to the court which sent mutters through the stands.

"Yes, I do." Eliana agreed with a faint nod. "My loyalty cannot be bought with as many gold dragons you'd like to offer me,  _Queen Regent_... instead, it must be earned, something you've failed to do. Anyway, you can try but you can't buy everyone."

Tywin narrowed his gaze at her, but unlike her father, Cersei visibly bristled at the statement. "Do you swear by all the gods that your testimony will be true and honest?"

"I suppose so," Eliana gave a nod of her head, "... I swear it."

Tywin nodded for her to continue, "Well, present your evidence to the court."

"Now, you must forgive me when I say this, but all the worst ones usually deserve their fates... Joffrey was hated by many, Tyrion and myself included, but I do not believe he is as foolish enough to kill him at his own wedding. Why would he when the repercussions would be so dire?" she paused, glancing around the room with a glint in her eye. "You can say what you will about Tyrion, but he is no murderer.

"Joffrey's cruelty towards my sister was... indescribable, unbelievable, intolerable... but most of this court from what I know, stood meekly aside and watched him have her beaten." Eliana trailed off if she was to calm herself from the growing outrage within her veins. "From what I also understand, Tyrion was the only one to stand in her defence. And yet, upon the Battle of the Blackwater, Tyrion protected the city and defended it from Stannis's fleet upon his siege... if not for Tyrion you would all be dead, and Stannis would be seating upon that ugly chair." She recalled in bemusement, "You say Joffrey wanted to fight in vanguard, yes?" She looked back at Tyrion, who nodded whilst looking slightly bewildered, but still more than happy for Eliana to continue. "Then why was he seen returning to red keep upon Stannis landing? You see, I've been asking around and I have quite an extensive amount of knowledge and what you seem to forget is, if Tyrion truly hated Joffrey as much as you like to think he did, would he have not allowed Stannis safe passage into the Red Keep if that were true? Or why let Joffrey return to Maegor's holdfast?

Slouching in his seat, Tywin sighed deeply. "Please elaborate on where you intend to take this."

"The trial is exhausting," Eliana breathed in tiredness, "Poison is a woman's weapon - and Tyrion is no woman - dwarf,  _yes_ , but no woman." She explained, watching from the corner of her eye as her husband smirked in his chair at her words. "From where I was sat during the wedding feast - I think I would've noticed if he was up to something, if he'd moved... I may be a woman but I'm not stupid; I would have seen it, my eyes work perfectly fine."

Clearing his throat, Oberyn sat forward, positioning his hands under his chin with a warm smile. "But then you're saying you may have committed regicide and not the accused, is that correct, my love?" At his words, Tywin's head snapped in his direction, scowling at the use of ' _my love_ '.

Looking to her husband, Eliana smiled as she tilted her head at him. "I prefer a sharp edge to win my battles, Oberyn... you know that as well as most but I believe, we all saw the murderer that day- we just don't know who. We could be sitting right next to them, some may even share their bed..."

Allowing his nervous laugh to filter through the sombre air, Mace shifted in his chair. "Lady Eliana is deluded, as I recall she was heavily pregnant that day." Mace said, "She has been through a terrible tragedy -"

"And you are fat..." She asserted with a glower, watching as Mace jolted back in shock at her bluntness. "Apologises my lord... it's slightly upsetting to see you test the bonds of our friendship, for what?"Eliana asked, her eyes flying to Margaery who looked sincere but at whose response, she couldn't be certain. "Anyway, if I am my lord, then why allow a deluded woman to stand witness for the accused? Yes, I blame myself for everything;  _I should_  have been protecting Winterfell, it was my job as  _I should_  have been protecting my family. What happened to my brother was not a tragedy as you may call it - it was betrayal, the betrayal of his banners but I am not here to stand witness for the murder of my brother, or the murder of his wife, or the murder of my niece of nephew..."

"You are not here to insult the judges either..." Tywin let out softly, "Did you kill the King?"

" _Oh, I wish I had_." Eliana smiled at the symphony of the courts gasps, glancing down briefly before she looked to Tyrion who was watching her closely. "I know I am renowned for my blood lust and skill in battle but do you really think I would lower my standards and turn to poison?" Her head flew back to Tywin, "My blood lust may have wavered and dissipated but I would prefer a sharp edge cutting through flesh any day... Joffrey's death was far too clean in my humble opinion.

"Tyrion has wronged me in no way, Joffrey though, Joffrey wronged me at every chance he could... he took liberty of doing so, had me publicly humiliated so I would swear myself to him... in fact, I congratulate the murderer on their achievement...  _but it was not Tyrion_."

"You have an idea who did kill King Joffrey?" pressed Oberyn with intrigue.

"I have my suspicions - but one cannot be too haste to make assumptions such as that." Eliana explained, her voice riddled with boredom. "But I also think that Tyrion has as much cause as the rest -  _you know who you are_  - to want Joffrey dead." Her eyes froze on Cersei then, who was glaring bitterly at her from where she sat helplessly watching her testimony. "I just don't believe Tyrion would consider something as costly as that despite his rotten feelings towards the boy. Furthermore, I would bet my own life that Tyrion was framed for this act of regicide - and the truth will be later uncovered."

"Do you have anything else to say?" Tywin requested.

"When you kill a King, you don't kill him in the dark. You kill him where the entire court can watch him die." And with that, Eliana bowed over-dramatically before exiting the witness box to retreat back to her chair and settled into it comfortably, feeling the eyes of the entire room still upon her.

"The crown may call it's final witness."

The silence settled momentarily, drifting over the room to calm and waver slightly when the faint sound of footsteps sounded in the distance. Hearing the echoing of boots, Tyrion turned his head to the side to see who they had rallied against him, but a gasp of horror fell over his lips as his mouth dropped open at the sight of her walking towards him.

Tywin smirked and nodded, watching as she took her place in the witness box, her head bowed. "State your name."

"Shae."

"Do you swear by all the gods that your testimony will be true and honest?" Tywin questioned, his smirk not faltering a single inch as he watched his son staring memorized by the foreigner.

She bowed her head, "I swear it."

Tywin sat forward suddenly as he gestured to Tyrion, "Do you know this man?" He quizzed as she glanced back at Tyrion, her eyes refusing to meet his gaze as he stared helplessly transfixed at her as if she would disappear in the blink of an eye.

"Yes." She gave a bob of her head, "Tyrion Lannister."

"How do you know him?"

Shae clutched her hands together tightly, "I was handmaiden to his wife Lady Sansa." She informed the court steadily, her eyes momentarily falling upon Eliana who was glowering at her darkly.

"This man stands accused of murdering King Joffrey." Tywin commented dryly, his eyes almost slits as he spoke. "What do you know of this?"

Shae's eyes didn't waver from Tywin as she spoke in certainty, "I know that he's guilty." At her words the court erupted into a hissing of gasps. "He and Sansa planned it together," She paused, but the hissing of murmurs didn't.

" _Silence!_ " Tywin raged as they immediately ceased and all grew quiet again at Tywin's harsh hiss that sizzled through them in a whistle of sharpness. "Continue..."

"... She wanted revenge for her father, her mother, her brother. She blamed their deaths on the king... Tyrion was happy to help, he hated Joffrey. He hated the queen. He hated you, my lord." Shae informed as the court gasped in disgust at the her words, "He stole poison from the Grand Maester's chamber to put in Joffrey's wine."

Sensing his wife's distress at the words of the Lorathi, Oberyn interrupted her. "How could you possibly know all this? Why would he reveal such plans to his wife's maid?" He wondered in interest, staring the woman down as she shook trembling where she stood.

"I wasn't just her maid... I was his whore."

Upon her words, the entire court erupted into a buzz of murmurs that sent them all into bewilderment, Mace Tyrell among them. " _I beg your pardon?_ " He coughed out, startled and embarrassed by her confession. "You said you were his...  _his whore_. How did you come to be in his service?"

Taking a deep breath, Shae gave out a grave sigh. "He stole me, I was with another man, a knight in your lordship's army but when Tyrion arrived at the camp, he sent one of his cutthroats into our tent. He broke the knight's arm and brought me to Lord Tyrion." She paused briefly, her eyes flickering to Tyrion, "" _You belong to me now,_ " he said. " _I want you to fuck me like it's my last night in this world._ ""

The crowd erupted into laughter at her statement, making Tyrion want to disappear within the depths of his box, to disappear from sigh and be forgotten to save his shame and embarrassment of love... love for a whore but he  _did_ love Shae.

"Silence..." Tywin commanded, though the laughter didn't cease which only angered him further, his son had allowed his name to be tarnished due to his perversions and attractions to whores. "Silence!" He roared again, the court immediately falling silent in anticipation if not to face the wrath of Tywin Lannister.

"And did you?" Oberyn questioned suddenly, staring mischievously at Shae, a grin falling upon his lips.

Shae frowned in confusion, clearly lost courtesy of Oberyn. "Did I what?"

Oberyn grinned, looking to Eliana and giving her a soft wink in amusement. "Fuck him like it was his last night in this world..."

Shae gave another nod of her head, "I did everything he wanted. Whatever he told me to do to him. Whatever he felt like doing to me... I kissed him where he wanted, I licked him where he wanted, I let him put himself where he wanted." She divulged to the entire room, shaming both Tyrion and also Tywin by shaming his family name. "I was his property... I would wait in his chambers for hours so he could use me when he was bored. He ordered me to call him " _my lion,_ " so I did. I took his face in my hands and said, " _I am yours and you are mine._ ""

"Shae." Tyrion croaked, calling her attention to him as he shook his head weakly, his eyes glittering with tears. " _Please don't._ "

"I am a whore... remember?" She scoffed before turning back to face the judges as the stared down at her. "That was before he married Sansa. After that, all he wanted was her, but she wouldn't let him into her bed... so he promised to kill King Joffrey for her." Once again, the crowd began to erupt, clamoring at her words while Eliana flew from her seat, seething at her words.

Her quick fire reaction causing both Cersei and Margaery to jump in their seats as Eliana launched herself across the room, her eyes wild with rage as she neared Shae, her hand on the hilt of the dagger at her waist. "My sister would never say such a thing!" She hissed, as Jaime shot across to intercept her from reaching Shae, holding her tightly against him as she glowered at the woman. "Who bought you?"

But no one was listening to her, Jaime turned her to face him, holding her still. "Calm down... Tyrion will not die." He vowed under his breath so only she could hear him.

Through the chaos that had erupted into the air, Tyrion's voice echoed through it all to sound loudly. "I wish to confess." Tyrion muttered, trying to find his voice through his own shock. "I wish... to confess." He finished with certainty as the crowd quietened at his words.

Tywin's face became stern at his words, tilting his head in intrigue at Tyrion. "You wish to confess?" He repeated cautiously, wondering what he intended to say to save his own skin.

"I saved you... I saved this city and all your worthless lives." Sneering, Tyrion turned in his box, eyeing each and everyone of the court that thought him to be the murderer he was not. "... I should have let Stannis kill you all."

"Tyrion." Tywin called his son to hims gently, demanding his full at attention when he spoke while the crowd continued to erupt in outrage at his son's words. "Do you wish to confess?" He repeated calmly.

Meeting his father's gaze, Tyrion smiled tauntingly, throwing his hands into the air. "Yes, Father. I'm guilty... Guilty." He nodded in agreement, his eyes filtering around him. "Is that what you want to hear?"

"You admit you poisoned the king?" Tywin pressed, leaning forward as he sat on the throne, staring his son down.

Shaking his head, Tyrion chuckled under his breath. "No, of that I'm innocent... I'm guilty of a  _far more monstrous crime_." Tyrion asserted, his gaze falling upon Eliana and Jaime who were watching him in horror at his outburst that he'd promised not to do. "I am guilty of being a dwarf."

Chuckling, Tywin looked away uncomfortable but not allowing it show, not allowing any weakness to be foreseen. "You are not on trial for being a dwarf." He smirked at his son, sneering at him.

" _Oh, yes, I am_. I've been on trial for that my entire life." Tyrion ground out gravely, glowering at his face as he gritted his teeth in agitation.

Tywin rolled his eyes in disbelief at the lengths his son was willing to go to preserve his life and live a little longer. "Have you nothing to say in your defense?" Tywin added in question.

"Nothing but this- I did not do it. I did not kill Joffrey, but I wish that I had." He admitted, turning his attention to Cersei, who's glare had not faltered. "Watching your vicious bastard die gave me more relief than a thousand lying whores." Among the murmuring crowd, Eliana failed to stop a laugh passing her lips which made Jaime's hold on her tighten. "I  _wish_  I was the monster you think I am. I  _wish_  I had enough poison for the whole pack of you... I would gladly give my life to watch you all swallow it."

Beside her, Jaime let out a sigh. "Tyrion..." He muttered, glaring at his brother as he hissed to the crowd, antagonizing them further than necessary.

"Ser Meryn." Tywin called in outrage, watching as everywhere erupted into more chaos if that was possible. "Ser Meryn!" Tywin exclaimed at the crowd continued to shout over him, "Escort the prisoner back to his cell."

"I will not give my life for Joffrey's murder!" Tyrion proclaimed, almost falling out his own box as he leant against his, bearing his teeth at his father as his hands shook with fury. "And I know I'll get no justice here." He paused briefly, if he was to compose himself for what he was about to say, if he was to hold his father's stern stare that had always unnerved him some. "So I will let the gods decide my fate...  _I demand a trial by combat._ "

As the last the word left his mouth, Eliana felt her heart leap into her throat at Tyrion's demand, even more so when he finally broke his stare with his father for his eyes to settle upon her. Nodding, she smiled briefly and looked to Oberyn who nodded back at her...

But when she glanced back around after looking away from Oberyn, she met the ferocious verdant gaze of Jaime as he glowered at her, betrayal leaking into his usual soft gaze while he studied her. "What did you do?" He whispered, unable to trust himself as he spoke. "What have you done?"


	54. Lex Talionis

Tyrion sat in his cell, a smile conjuring ever so slightly upon his disfigured face, whilst the rather splendid image of his father's face in disarray floated around his cranium, staining his consciousness as his eyes bored into the floor. Undoubtedly he should've been feeling liable, futile, or at least agitated; instead, the Imp felt only satisfaction at what had occurred within the throne room.

As he was being pulled away by the Gold cloaks, he'd managed to find his sister's face in the complete madness that had ensued after his demand of a Trial by Combat... It was pure fury; Tyrion had never been scared of his sister, but in that moment, her fury bounced off of the walls and hit him square in the chest. Despite his joy at stirring his father's anger, the glare Cersei sent him was enough to somewhat unnerve him momentarily at the peril he'd caused.

Nonetheless, even that couldn't interfere with his contentment, remembering the snarl upon his father's face, the devilish grin of the Red Viper, the haughty gasp that had erupted from the fat face of Mace Tyrell, the chuckle that slipped past Eliana's lips, and of course, the chorus of objections from the crowds seated in the throne room. All of it, every single bit of it, had brought a smile to his grotesque face, even more so when his eyes landed upon Eliana who was sat looking rather pleased by the outcome that had been awakened within the madness.

However, his smile abated when his thoughts drifted to Shae. His beautiful... deceiving whore. How he wished she'd sailed across the Narrow Sea like he'd wanted,  _I trusted her,_ he thought to himself solemnly. Even a snarling Tywin or seething Cersei could ever restore the damage memory Shae had left behind in her wake, the horrible truth that she had betrayed him.

With his rage wavering, Jaime stepped into his imprisonment, behind him Eliana also drifted into the room with a sharp glint in her eyes, her arms folded neatly across her chest as she stared in amusement. Jaime's golden hand glowered as the fading sunlight from the minute barred window in Tyrion's captivity hit the gilded steel, blinding him.

But when Tyrion met his brother's gaze, he found only a face of complete bitterness.

"You idiot!" Jaime seethed through gritted teeth. "We offered you a way out, a way to end this farce, a way to save your damned life, and you threw back it in our faces!  _Do you want to die, is that it?_ " Jaime took seat at a wooden stool opposite where Tyrion stood, as the Imp tried to rectify his wrong.

Rolling her eyes, Eliana sighed. "Of course he doesn't want to die, Jaime... what sort of question is that?" she begun, looking to Tyrion who seemed to be silently attempting to rectify his wrongs.

"Of course I don't want to die..." Tyrion let out calmly, clenching his fists as he stared at the pair of them with his mismatched eyes. "But if father thinks he can send me off to the Wall and forget about me, he's bloody wrong." Tyrion snapped irrationally, his fists now shaking as he spoke. "... How did you come to this deal between Father and yourself?"

Jaime glanced at Tyrion with reluctance in his eyes, instead of the irritation that had lurked within their green depths moments before. "Father needs an heir..."

"You didn't forsake your vowels, did you?" Tyrion cut Jaime off, noticing that his brother's eyes refused to meet his own, which granted Tyrion the answer he needed, and he found his anger resurfacing once more. "You fool, father has played you!"

"Don't you think I know that?" Jaime roared, realising his mistake at trying to sort out things, but only seeming to make them worse. "This is what he's been wanting for far too long, and now he has the opportunity..." he paused when he felt her hand curl around his shoulder, willing him to stay strong, "But I was not going to stand by and watch you die the same way Ned Stark did!"

Felling liable once again, Tyrion realised his brother's good intentions on his behalf. He hung his head, before turning his attention to another pressing matter. "Now, who is going to champion me?" Tyrion wondered, he eyes falling upon Eliana. "You, maybe? I wouldn't mind watching you dispose of fucking Meryn Trant the same way you did Ser Osmud Kettleblack." Tyrion announced whilst Jaime's brow deepened.

"Lia, will not be fighting on your behalf, I don't want her to." Jaime informed him curtly. "I don't want to lose her..."

Eliana looked at Tyrion with the same amusement in her icy eyes as before, as Tyrion scoffed at Jaime's words, obviously not believing them to be true. "She wants to see you dead; she won't take any chances... she'll want the best fighter she can get if it entitles her to your head."

Tyrion's eyebrow raised slightly in question, looking to Jaime before he asked, "Is she going to choose you?" The imp froze, finding himself scared of the answer awaiting him.

"Of course she won't pick me as champion," Jaime responded, snorting at the idea, imagining the battle of what could be. "Look at me - I'm a one-handed man, who hasn't fought in any kind of proper combat for at least a year, and father would never allow her to do so... so rid the notion from your mind, I will not be sealing your fate."

"Cersei loves you," Tyrion noted absently, though once he looked back to Jaime, he saw the strange look of disgust smeared across his brother's features as his words reached him.

Jaime sighed, "But my heart does not belong to her, it is another's..." he answered, his left hand moving to clasp Eliana's own as it rested upon his shoulder. "But no, Tyrion, it's not me. She has someone else in mind..."

"Who is it?" Tyrion leaned forward in anticipation.

Eliana winced, "He's... substantial."

* * *

There was a soft current, he noted as he adjusted his rod before going back to his waiting, smiling to himself.

Tywin enjoyed this part of his day; where there were no interruptions to dissuade him from his acquired hobby of fishing... where he could ignore the failure of his children, the disappointment that they had forced upon him, that were haunting him and giving him sleepless nights. "Damn them... they've damned the bloody legacy..." He muttered to himself, his eyes boring into the waters depths.

He rubbed his neck as he waited for the pull on his line before moving to scratch his beard. His mind immediately flew to the Stark vendetta... and the fact that Eliana Stark would forever be a prominent pain in his arse. "Foolish girl..." He murmured, glancing toward the floor as he continued to lose himself in his thoughts that were plaguing his mind.

From the brush, a shadow emerged cautiously as their eyes landed upon the Hand of the King sat waiting for a catch on his line. Nearing him, he withdrew his dirk and easily took out the vulnerable guards stood facing in the direction of Tywin Lannister, the coolness of the blade slithering across their neck. Falling silently despite the heavy contents of their armour, he weaved through them to descend the steps leading to the shore where he sat unknowingly.

Closing his eyes, Tywin let a soft sigh as he continued to stare across the water, unknown to what had occurred behind him or to what would transpire if he failed to notice the Assassin nearing him swiftly.

Rounding the corner, moving down the stone steps with a heavy sigh as Shadow trailed after her lazily. "Fishing... what is with these Southerner's?" Eliana muttered to herself, glancing upward and freezing at the sight transpiring before her. Her eyes widened when she spotted the man drawing his dirk high into the air, ready to bring it down upon Tywin.

"Shadow." Eliana directed her direwolf towards the assassin, and although the direwolf looked reluctant to do so until his mistress nodded which sent the direwolf bolting towards the man.

Raising the dirk high in the air, ready to bring it down upon the Hand of the King's neck, he didn't catch the padding of paws sound behind him as he stood behind the Old Lion, towering over him.

It was when a growl rippled through the warm breeze that the dirk dropping in height while the man slowly turned around to see a great snarling beast stood a few feet away from him with its teeth bared and icy eyes trained upon his form.

He wasn't made for fighting beasts, he was built for moving in the shadows to carry out his work... but if he proceeded to move, the beast would surely attack him. "Easy, boy." He raised his hands in defence, slowly shifted forwards on his feet as a smirk etched across his face.

Startled, Tywin rose from his position to turn sharply, casting his gaze upon the sight as the direwolf growled at the hooded man, discarding his rod just as the beast let another growl fall from its mouth before it lept into the air and charged towards the man holding the knife, building momentum until its jaw finally latched around his arm to bring the man to the floor.

Eyes widening, Tywin stared as the direwolf mauled the assassin, its teeth sinking into the flesh and twisting the blade free from his hand as he dropped to the ground, writhing and howling in pain as he clutched his arm while trying to kick the beast away. "Get back! Get back!" He cried out, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

However, the beast retreated and sat, its eyes never wavering from the face of the assassin.

The sound of boots against stone rung out, causing the man to glance upwards in bewilderment while Tywin began to smirk in realisation. "He was doing his job as were you..." The man realised who he was watching walk towards himself immediately; he wasn't stupid, he'd seen her many a time before through the streets of the city. "We couldn't have you killing such a man... especially without me having had the chance to dine with him yet."

"Lady Eliana," Tywin breathed as Eliana met his eyes, smiling briefly before taking up the man's dirk and inspecting it momentarily, frowning she crouched beside him as retrieved the piece of evidence she was looking for. Watching her closely, his eyes narrowed when she turned and clicked her fingers as the beast rose up on its hind legs and attacked once more, causing the man to erupt into howls of agony. "Why did you do that? It would have been more prudent to question him." Tywin tried to move past her, to remove the beast from the assassin.

She frowned, "Why? I know who sent him..." She held up a hardened wax green sigil of a rose and showed him, watching in amusement as his eyes darkened considerably at the rose entwined with thorns. "You're closest ally... the dirk was one of a make that I recall comes from Highgarden; I remember seeing ne just like it during my stay there."

"The Tyrells."

"One can only assume." Eliana replied dryly, glancing back at her direwolf as it sat waiting patiently, the assassin's neck ripped to shreds as blood drizzled from the open wound to stain the stone he laid upon. "But you prevent them from having complete authority."

Tywin stared at her hard, trying to weigh out why she'd saved his life when she made it evident she wanted him dead on some many occasions previously. "I owe you my life, it seems." He concluded as she nodded slowly. "You will dine with me this evening, I will send a guard- "

Turning sharply, she began to walk away, but scoffed at his words and chose to interrupt him. "I know my way perfectly well." She informed him, throwing her head back before she followed her beast as they both left Tywin Lannister to his fishing.

But little did he know, he'd caught a red herring.

* * *

Sighing, Eliana entered her mother's chambers with a darkened look upon her face although it lightened when she spotted her mother fussing over her son, cooing to him as he tried to pull at her strands of auburn hair with his newborn reach to Catelyn's delight. "Mother." She called her to her, smiling momentarily as Catelyn to rose her feet, her grandson still in her arms.

"What's the matter?"

Eliana tucked her hair behind her ear, moving towards her mother to take her son from her arms to smile at him softly. "I am to dine with Tywin this evening, whilst Oberyn visits Tyrion in the dungeons... we're to aid him in his trial, seeing as no one is worthy enough, nor are they happy enough to do so." Pressing a kiss to his brow, Alaric dribbled on her shoulder as she looked to her mother.

Catelyn smiled and tilted her head to the side. "It went well then? He didn't sense that you'd planted the assassin to take him out... and instead gained his trust by saving his life, and planting the idea that the Tyrell's were plotting betrayal..." Eliana smiled slightly, brushing Alaric's curls. "I can't believe you're putting your life, your son's life... on the line to gain the trust of a man that shouldn't be trusted." Catelyn let out in disgust, sighing as she took Alaric back from his mother.

Watching as Catelyn sunk into a chair, Eliana moved to pick up a black widetooth comb as her mother continued to fuss over her son. "I do feel bad for pinning the blame on the Tyrells... especially Margaery; she's a good friend." Putting the comb to her mother's mussed hair, Eliana sighed. "But I need him to trust me... that way I can play him for everything he has, I  _need_  to do this... you know I do, for father and for Robb. For you. For Oberyn and Alaric."

"I'm not saying that, I just want you to be careful..." Catelyn bit out, rocking her grandson softly as she smiled down at him. "You have to remember you're family that is alive... your son. You can't go wasting your life to seek vengeance for those who've been taken from us." She explained, feeling the teeth of the comb graze her scalp. "I don't want that."

"You employed me to do this - you willed me to do this, mother."

Catelyn clenched her eyes shut and nodded, "I know I did... but I hadn't thought it through entirely, and now with Alaric... I know I've made a mistake in doing so." Catelyn smiled softly, stroking his cheek as he clutched her hand tightly with his miniature fingers, entertaining himself. "I want you to see him grow up, I want him to have siblings to grow up with."

Smiling, Eliana pressed a kiss to her mother's head before dividing her hair into three pieces as she begun to weave them through one another. "I can assure you, with Oberyn's libido... that shouldn't be too long." That roused a chuckle from her mother as she laughed herself, enjoying the sound her comment had made. "Anyhow, I need to take him for everything he has."

Eyes continuing to trace Alaric's soft face, Catelyn nodded absently. "Just remember what you're risking." She reminded gently, lowering her lips to Alaric's forehead.

* * *

Pacing around the table, Eliana plucked a grape and placed it in her mouth, her eyes never wavering from Tywin as he sat slumped in his own chair, smirking. "The Northmen swore allegiance to my brother before a single sword had been drawn," She informed him, moving towards her own chair with a smirk of her own. "What's stopping them doing something like that again? But this time, this time we have a proper cause, a clear heading, an ultimate destination?"

Tywin rolled his eyes, "The Northern armies have been decimated, Eliana, we've been through this." Tywin let out a sigh of annoyance, watching as she continued to smirk at him. "Winterfell is a ruin and the coastline is susceptible every day to incursions. Why would they go to war now when they'll be dead by winter?"

"They won't have to go to war because winter is coming; and the only thing Bolton would have to do would be to close the Kingsroad, which means -"

"They will all starve," Tywin cut her off dismissively, rising to his feet. "You and I both know that Roose Bolton is much smarter than that."

"They will not starve of course, though I also doubt that Bolton would even care if they did," Eliana stated as she held Tywin's stare, moving towards him. "Unless he acts first, the other Northmen will surely oust him before winter is done or maybe, I'll root him out from his hole and deal with him myself... the things I would do to him with my new Valyrian steel blade, make some alterations and remove a few bits, torture him into madness..."

"They might have in peacetime, Eliana but for now, they have been beaten."

"You never beat my brother," Eliana bared her teeth at him. "We lost far fewer bannermen, and our people will forever remain loyal and well kept, fed and rested." She saw Tywin's jaw set, so she continued anyway: "Bolton will turn on you the first chance he gets. And he will never claim the North for himself, for as long as I live because it is mine by right."

"You are ambitious." Tywin noted, leaning towards her unexpectedly. "But ambition gets you killed."

"It's better to stand and fight. If you run, you'll only die tired." Eliana murmured as he continued to stare at her, smirking softly. "Give me what I want."

Moving a finger under her chin, he brought her face up to look at him, her eyes watching his own. "And what do you want?" Tywin asked gently, moving towards her still, his other hands seizing her wrist.

"What rightfully belongs to me." Eliana breathed, clasped his forearm as she stared at his lips, her breath tickling his cheek as she lent towards him.

Tywin shuddered at her words and the feel of her breath, gripping her wirst tightly as he pulled her further against him. "Well, that could be a good number of things..." He let out quietly, feeling her lips upon his cheek suddenly.

Smiling, Eliana let her lips caress his cheek, "I want Winterfell." She whispered low enough for him to hear as he pushed her against the table suddenly, both of them failing to hear the door to his quarters rupture to clatter against the wall, making them both jump.

"What in Seven Hells are you doing?!"

* * *

It was late when the door to Tyrion's cell opened again for the second time that, but the second time rather unexpectedly unlike the first, and a visitor stepped into its cold depths. A visitor, or perhaps an assassin, but either of the two were unwlecome at that hour, having disturbed him.

Tyrion sat up and allowed his eyes to adjust to the visitor's torch. When his sight finally settled, Tyrion saw the Dornish prince; Oberyn Martell. Golden Dornish suns upon Oberyn's robe glittered splendidly in the light that the torch threw upon the cell, and his yellow robe turned orange as he approached Tyrion, sitting opposite him.

Oberyn sat, leaning slightly to the left, crossing his legs. The men sat opposite each other for a few minutes without uttering a single word, Oberyn sat there looking into Tyrion's eyes rather pitifully.

"Prince Oberyn, what a delight to have you in my quarters at such an hour, I would have cleaned up had I known you were coming..." Tyrion yawned out, spotting Oberyn's grin upon his lips. "What brings you down here?"

Oberyn ignored the question, disregarding everything he had said to speak something completely odd and surprisingly to Tyrion's ears. "I met you once before you know... before all this." The Red Viper beckoned all around him with a soft sigh.

"It appears I can't seem to recall," Tyrion noted softly, allowing a sigh of his own to leave his lips. "It couldn't have been a particularly significant meeting..." Oberyn smiled slightly at his words.

"That's not surprising; you were a mere infant," Oberyn informed Tyrion. "My sister Elia and I came to Casterly Rock just after your mother had died, and your arrival into this world." Oberyn frowned then, sighing once again. "All throughout our journey to the Rock, we heard these rumours of your disfigured features, and how Tywin Lannister's wife had died giving birth to a  _monster_..." He explained gently, clasping his hands together. "When we arrived at the Rock, we met with your father, your sister Cersei, and your brother Jaime... my sister and I, we begged them, from the moment we arrived to show us the monster born to your father. It was weeks into our horrible stay that they finally gave into us... when Cersei led us to your nursery, when we finally got to see the monster that was you."

Sitting back, Oberyn closed his briefly before opening them to see Tyrion pleading for him to continue with the story, to which he obliged. "Now, your head was a little too big, your body a little small... but a monster?  _No._ Where were these demon claws? The evil snarl? The tail I was promised? You were the monster I'd heard so much about... all you had was a tiny pink cock between your legs." Oberyn informed him smoothly, watching as Tyrion stared at him, in a trance. "Elia and I did not hide our disappointment before your sister and brother. " _This is not a monster,_ " I told your sister, " _It_ _'s just a baby._ " But she wouldn't listen... You know what she did then?" Tyrion shook his head. "She grabbed your little cock, and told us " _He is a monster. He killed my mother... The nurses say he will die soon. I hope they're right._ " She then pinched your cock so hard I thought she might pull it off..."

* * *

" _When will I get to see the little monster?_ " Oberyn asked Cersei impatiently, tapping his boot covered foot, but she merely rolled her eyes and let out a sigh of annoyance.

" _Soon,_ " she promised him but the older boy only let out an exasperated sigh, all too familiar with that promise.

He narrowed his eyes at her, " _You've told me that once before,_ " he complained with the impatience expected of Jaime's age rather than his own, but waiting so long only got him more anxious to see what the beast born to Tywin Lannister looked like.

Growling, Cersei finally gave into his insistent desire to want to see the beast that had killed her mother to come into the world, she would rather play a little longer than going to visit him again... but she decided it would be better to get it over and done with as soon as possible. " _Fine, let's go._ " She grabbed his arm and began to pulling in the direction that led to the nursery, Jaime and Elia trailing behind them as they all walked.

Rolling her eyes, Cersei opened the door to his nursery, pushing Oberyn and his sister inside hurriedly.

Instead of a monster with scales and tail, Oberyn gave a look over perplexity and disappointment when he saw nothing other than a small infant lying there in the cradle, not the grotesque creature he had been promised by Cersei. " _This is not a monster,_ " He told her, offering his hand to the small infant as he clutched his fingers. " _It's just a baby._ "

" _He killed my mother._ " She asserted before reaching down into his cradle and squeezing his penis hard enough to make her brother wail in pain while the infant let go of Oberyn's hand.

Hearing the infant's cries brought a vindictive and rather satisfied smile to her face as she continued to pinch him harder whilst Elia covered her mouth as Oberyn's eyes widened in horror at her actions just as Jaime's brotherly instincts kicked in as he pushed her aside roughly.

" _It doesn't matter!_ " Cersei shouted to the Dornish Prince and Princess. " _He is a monster. He killed my mother... The nurses say he will die soon. I hope they're right._ " She yelled in demand, tears flooded to her verdant eyes as the other children in the room stood silently for a tense moment as the baby continued to whimper in pain. " _He shouldn't have lived this long anyway..._ "

" _Come on Elia,_ " Oberyn sighed deeply, wrapping an arm around his sister's shoulder protectively before drawing her from the room, repulsed by Cersei's actions towards her newborn brother.

* * *

Oberyn's mouth thinned as his brow furrowed softly whilst he waited for a response from Tyrion, however the Imp found himself struggling for words... the tale sounded like something he sister would do. Clearing his throat, he sighed as he managed to speak. "Well, sooner or later, Cersei always gets what she wants."

Oberyn's gaze narrowed further when Tyrion's words reached him, not content with the reply he'd recieved, sitting forward as he eyes bored into Tyrion's own, posing him a sudden unexpected question. "But what about what I want? Shouldn't a prince get what he wants?"

"And what do you want Prince Oberyn? Certainly not something I can give you," he said, looking at him closely, intrigue rousing his mind. "Otherwise why would've you come here?"

"That is where I believe you're wrong, my friend! What do I want?" He paused briefly, smiling softly at the dwarf. "Justice... Justice for all those who have wronged me, for those who have slighted my family, and spat in our faces. For those who have ruined my wife, her lady mother... her family. That is what I want," Oberyn told him, choosing his words carefully. "She begged me to come down here, to offer you my services."

Tyrion laughed at his words, not believing what he was hearing for Oberyn of all people, amused by Oberyn's persistence for " _justice_." "If you've come looking for justice, my prince, then you've come to the wrong place..." Tyrion let out.

"I disagree," Oberyn rebutted, insistent before rising to his feet, approaching the torch he'd placed in a sconce, "I want to bring all those who have wronged my family to justice, and all those who have wronged my family are right here, in this city."

"I will start by bringing Ser Gregor Clegane to his knees, and have him confess his murder of my sister during King Robert's rebellion." Oberyn sent him a maddened grin, showing his pearly teeth. "And guess what my little friend? It appears Gregor Clegane is championing for your sister, our regent, at the Trial by Combat!"

Tyrion almost did not believe what he'd just heard: was Oberyn going to champion him?  _No..._

Oberyn smiled, looking down upon the dwarf. "Tyrion Lannister, son of Tywin Lannister, heir to Casterly Rock... I will be your champion at the Trial by Combat."


	55. Even Mountains Crumble Into the Sea

Pacing around the table, Eliana plucked a grape and placed it in her mouth, her eyes never wavering from Tywin as he sat slumped in his own chair, smirking. "The Northmen swore allegiance to my brother before a single sword had been drawn," She informed him, moving towards her own chair with a smirk plastered across her lips. "What's stopping them doing something like that again? But this time, this time we have a proper cause, a clear heading, an ultimate destination?"

Tywin rolled his eyes in irritation at her persistence, "The Northern armies have been decimated, Eliana, we've been through this." Tywin let out a sigh of annoyance, watching as she continued to smirk at him. "Winterfell is a ruin and the coastline is susceptible every day to incursions. Why would they go to war now when they'll be dead by winter?"

"They won't have to go to war because winter is coming; and the only thing Bolton would have to do would be to close the Kingsroad, which means -"

"They will all starve," Tywin cut her off dismissively, rising to his feet before he too, moved around the table to meet her. "You and I both know that Roose Bolton is much smarter than that." He let out in amusement, his smirk growing.

"They will not starve of course, though I also doubt that Bolton would even care if they did," Eliana stated as she held Tywin's stare, moving towards him. "Unless he acts first, the other Northmen will surely oust him before winter is done or maybe, I'll root him out from his hole and deal with him myself... the things I would do to him with my new Valyrian steel blade, make some alterations and remove a few bits, torture him into madness..."

"They might have in peacetime, Eliana but for now, they have been beaten."

"You never beat my brother," Eliana bared her teeth at him. "We lost far fewer bannermen, and our people will forever remain loyal and well kept, fed and rested." She saw Tywin's jaw set, so she continued anyway: "Bolton will turn on you the first chance he gets. And he will never claim the North for himself, for as long as I live because it is mine by right."

"You are ambitious." Tywin noted, leaning towards her unexpectedly. "But ambition gets you killed."

"It's better to stand and fight. If you run, you'll only die tired." Eliana murmured as he continued to stare at her, smirking softly. "Give me what I want."

Moving a finger under her chin, he brought her face up to look at him, her eyes watching his own. "And what do you want?" Tywin asked gently, moving towards her still, his other hands seizing her wrist.

"What rightfully belongs to me." Eliana breathed, clasped his forearm as she stared at his lips, her breath tickling his cheek as she lent towards him.

Tywin shuddered at her words and the feel of her breath, gripping her wrist tightly as he pulled her further against him. "Well, that could be a good number of things..." He let out quietly, feeling her lips upon his cheek suddenly.

Smiling, Eliana let her lips caress his cheek, "I want Winterfell." She whispered low enough for him to hear as he pushed her against the table suddenly, smirking as he continued to watch her closely through his lidded gaze. "You all want the same thing... but me, I would  _die_  for what I want."

Tywin looked at her with a glance that left her feeling unsettled, "You would be dead, if it were not for me... If I had sentenced you to death for all the trouble you caused, where would you be?"

Eliana pulled back from him, frowning deeply at him. "Then, perhaps, you should have allowed death to consume me."

"No," Tywin's voice was strangely soft as he spoke which unsettled her, something she hated to admit he'd achieved. "You would never have been better of dead..." Placing a hand on her check, his finger slid to linger beneath her chin, capturing her face so she would look at him, her eyes shining. "I think... you may even be better off with me." Before she knew what hit her, his lips, soft, were on hers. She heard his glass being placed on the table he'd forced her upon, whilst his other hand grasped the hair at the nape of her neck, pulling her face up for another kiss. And there was nothing that she could to do to stop him.

He smirked as she seemed caught off by his sudden action, especially since she was his enemy. At first, she didn't react, so he kissed her harder, even going as far to bite her bottom lips to the pint where he tasted a bit of blood. Eliana reacted then, gripping his arm tightly while he moved slightly, pulling her flush against him.

Cursing herself silently, Eliana knew it was wrong to do so... but she needed him to comply with her wishes, and what amused her even more was she managed to get him to do what she wanted. Taking the controls again, she kissed his back, perhaps just as fiercely as he was kissing her, her grip on his arm tightening.

"My foolish son doesn't fight for you... and your snake of a husband couldn't care less..." He pressed his lips against hers again, hungrily and demanding, as he stood between her legs, forcing her into the table while he hand let go of his hand to trail to his neck, her fingers stroking the hair at his neck and soon, his mouth trailed across her jaw to possess her neck, "You're better off alive," he muttered against her neck, before pulling away and looking her in the eyes.

Tilting her head, Eliana sighed. " _Am I?_ " She whispered, holding his gaze firmly, noting the sincere warmth welling in his eyes.

"On the contrary, you are most definitely." He murmured low enough for her to hear before he lowered his head to kiss along her jaw, continuing with them down her neck until a shrill voice rung out through the air, causing him to practically growl into the crook of her neck.

"What in Seven Hells are you doing?"

Turning sharply, Tywin glowered at the sight of his drunken daughter as she stumbled into his chambers with a goblet of wine secured in her grasp, slurring her words as her mouth fell agape at the scene unfolding before her. "Cersei, I would advise you to sober up before you even contemplate speaking once more about what you've seen..." He growled, his height shielding Eliana some until she poked her head out from behind him and sent Cersei a smirk which caused the lioness to snarl in response.

"Why does every bloody fool want her?" Cersei exclaimed in annoyance, throwing her arms into the air and sending some off her wine to the floor as she did, being melodramatic which only angered Tywin further. "I don't want her corrupting you; she already has Jaime,  _my Jaime_..." She let out, moving towards them, her eyes narrowed dangerously. "She can't have you, too."

"And neither do I want you drunk, Your Grace." Tywin spoke in reply, intercepting Cersei's movements to take her wine from her as he stared her down, watching as she reconsidered reluctantly. "You're a drunk, and it's unattractive at court, people will talk..."

Quick as fire, Cersei raised her hand, moving to slap him across the face as quick as lightning. "You dictate to me?" The drunken woman hissed as her father merely stood before, his eyes gaze dark but hazardous as he registered her reaction to him reprimanding her.

"You have sorrows enough to forget." Eliana's voice rose through the air to reach her, causing Cersei's head to snap in her direction. "However, there are other, better ways to go about it rather than drinking your sorrow away..."

Cersei's eyes narrowed. "I know your game; first Jaime and now my father?" She snarled at her, trying to move around her father to go to the woman she'd seen him mauling, the woman,  _no_ , whore of the North. "You think you can take them all from me? Truly? Do you think yourself so charming to be capable of doing so? I am the Light of the Seven Kingdoms... you're just some half-mauled dog from Winterhell."

Eliana frowned at her intoxication, " _Winterfell_ , I believe... however, it's a simple slip of the tongue, especially in your condition." Her words only seemed to infuriate Cersei further as the golden haired woman flung herself in the direction of her nemesis and directly into the armour that was her father.

"You cunt!" Cersei fumed darkly, baring her teeth at Eliana as she merely smirked in return, stepping around the father and daughter, secretly pleased with the outcome of the situation she'd orchestrated perfectly. "You will pay for everything you've done to me! To Joff!"

Frowning, she turned to face her, " _But Joff's dead._.. how can I pay any debts to him personally?" Eliana observed as Cersei's fuse disintegrated before, "You'll have to do."

Even if Cersei had been sober enough, her swinging arm might have caught Eliana in its supposed destination, however she stumbled and missed entirely, sending her into a nearby table while its contents, and herself went elsewhere.

Sighing, Eliana looked to Tywin as she passed him, her hand brushing against his own while she sent him a smile. "Give me what I want, Tywin... and perhaps you and I can come to some agreement..." She paused briefly, eyeing Cersei as she struggled to recover from her fall. "One that we can both benefit from," Pressing a swift kiss to his cheek, she continued out the door and disappeared from his view.

Clenching his fists, he turned towards his daughter to see her gradually standing to her feet, trying to balance as she stumbled to another wine pitcher, reaching for it to refill her broken wine glass until Tywin snatched it away. "I think you've had quite enough for one night..."

"I am the one who decides when I've had enough." Cersei snarled, moving to snatch it back but Tywin grabbed her hand and held it tightly, causing her face to contort in the sudden pain that vibrated through her hand. " _Not you..._ "

"Do you have any idea what you've just done?"

Scoffing, Cersei ripped her hand free. "Have you? I walk in to see you savaging her of all people? That traitorous cunt from the North..." Cersei ground out in fury, however any further words were stolen from her when Tywin's hand struck her cheek forcefully, causing her to stumble backwards at the force it dealt.

Her mouth falling agape, Cersei held her cheek as her eyes widened at her father, any protest failing to leave her lips as she watched the fury strengthen within his eyes, his jaws clenched as he stared at her, the fury and rage surging through him until he glanced away. "Leave me," he spat, not looking her in the eye to watch her flee the room in astonishment.

* * *

To say she was angry was an immense understatement; she was furious, she felt like the northern winds had roused a force she'd never encountered before from within her... but then again, Oberyn had agreed to be Tyrion's champion after they had arranged for her to do so! Hearing her steps against the stone floors, several heads turned to look at Eliana as she stalked along, her fists stiff and rigid as was her jaw.

"Lia!" a voice stirred with panic called out, followed by footsteps echoing after her while she merely glanced in their direction, sighing even harder when she saw it was Jaime running her way as he tried to catch up. Out of breath, he managed to pant out some words, "I thought you knew..."

Eliana laughed in reply, "Obviously, you thought wrong then didn't you,  _Ser?_ " She spat, weaving through the paths impatiently as he continued to follow her. "How could you let him do this? He's throwing away everything...  _me, our son... his girls_." She let out just as Jaime grabbed her wrist and yanked her back towards him suddenly.

"Eliana, he won't die..." Jaime spoke with a small smile, wanting her to believe the truth in his words. "He won't die because of you... you're what he's to look forward to returning to, why would he give that up? Don't you understand?" He asked a she continued to stare at him, her patience growing thin very quickly. "He knows what he's doing and you  _have_  to trust him."

"And what if he dies?" Eliana questioned harshly, watching as Jaime's brow dipped. "What do I do then? It was to be me, not him...  _me_." He fell silent at her words, and moved to try to comfort until she swatted his hands away, moving away from him. "Oh, but that's what you want... for him to be out of the way, so you and your father can move in to stop any means of a future rebellion."

Frowning, Jaime tried to comprehend what she was saying, frowning further at the mention of his father and his supposed. "Why would I want Oberyn dead? He makes you happy, and seeing you happy makes me happy..." Jaime explained, however, she didn't look convinced by his words. "And why would my father do such a thing? He has no interest, does he not?"

Eliana sighed, "One might think otherwise." She replied as Jaime's mouth opened to question her meaning, obviously intrigued by what she had spoken. "Ignore my words... I don't know what I'm saying." She tried to flee after those words had left her, but Jaime had other ideas.

Jaime, however, didn't seem convinced and after briefly glancing around them, he pulled her behind a rose bush where he hadn't anticipated how close they'd actually be by him doing so. Allowing his eyes to ghost of her face slowly, Jaime couldn't help but become lost as she watched him.

There was a sheen of sweat across his brow when he leaned towards her, bringing his face close to her own whilst his one good had cupped her cheek; his palm cool and clammy as she shifts her neck, watching as Jaime's eyes set aflame, glittering with menacing shine that she found shamefully thrilling to witness arise within him.

His hand moved around to fist the hair at the nape of her neck, the strands catching beneath his jagged fingernails, before he pressed his fingertips firmly against the soft skin as she grasped the hard muscles of his upper arms to keep her balance. And then, an assault of the senses ensued - soft lips, rough beard, cold hands, and a warm tongue.

Her hairpin slipped out of thick curls of her hair and clattered against the stone floor as he pulled her against him as she allowed her arms to snake around his chest; the hard, supple ridges of his contracting beneath her palms before she bit down on his lips, and his golden hand pressed into the small of her back, pulling her even closer.  _Don't do this... think about Oberyn, and Alaric..._ Her head swam with a hazy lust as she fought with her righteous self and the wanton part of herself until her lower belly pressed against his groin. Bringing one hand down and around, her knuckles barely brushed across the front of his breeches.

He jolted, ripping his mouth from hers and created a small but significant space between them momentarily as he stared at her, knowing she'd gone too far as she did once she drew her hand away but he grasped her wrist and squeezed it tight enough to keep her from wavering.

Eliana didn't miss the flicker of distress within his verdant gaze when he placed her hand within his own good, choosing to not place it back upon where he wanted it and instead, moved so his lips were upon hers again, ravaging and claiming, which made it difficult for her to convince herself that it was only desire that made him so malleable.

Pulling away gradually, his chapped lips brushed against the tip of her nose... a light, careless gesture but he was still smiling at her as she reached to tuck away the stands of hair that had fallen across her face. "I love you, Lia..." He whispered, closely his eyes momentarily as he pressed his forehead against her own but then he felt the heels of her hands strike his chest and she was pushing him away, causing his smile to wane and die, being replaced by the perplexity - his verdant eyes narrowing and his strong jaw tightening, while a warm satisfaction filled her from the inside.

"I know." Eliana acknowledged, as his hand slipped into her hair once more, leaning close to give her that slightly-crooked smile of his. She watched as his moved closer to her again, and it pained her to know that she was drawing him in like that... playing him like that.

His lips trembled when he kissed her, and although his skin was feverish, his breath was cool when he sighed into her mouth. He kisses her as though she tasted of sweet summer wine. He kissed her softly as he smiled wider, knowing that it was the desirable and perfect beyond measure Eliana Stark. And although she knew what lurked behind it all, she couldn't help but fall into his embrace, couldn't resist returning his caresses, couldn't resist the feeling he roused from deep within her... the way he looked at her, the way he kissed her... like a man in love.

Pulling away, Eliana allowed her hand to stroke his beard as she smiled subtly at him. "... Keep it," She gestured to the hair covering his chin and part of his cheeks before she turned away and rounded the labyrinth that was the gardens in which her husband was lurking with the Queen of Thorns. Eyes locking upon his form as he sat with his back to her, Eliana saw Catelyn begin to smirk as she slowly made her way towards them. "You complete fool! What were you thinking? Did it at all cross your mind that you could die?!"

Turning around, Oberyn rose to his feet and immediately moved towards her, frowning as he glanced briefly at Catelyn, who sat with Alaric on her lap, also frowning at her daughter. "So, you've heard then... from whom?" Oberyn noted quietly, his gaze narrowing at her.

"Oh, several people have informed me of your ludicrous choice to fight," She hissed, gripping his arm tightly as he rolled his eyes at her worry, his hand going to her hair as he smiled. "We agreed that I was to do it, not you."

"On the contrary," Catelyn spoke, causing them to look at her, as she bit into a fig and rose from her chair to comfort the infant almost pulling at her braided hair. "I think your husband understands the notion of loyalty and to fight for those who are innocent, Lia..." Walking across to place her arm upon Eliana's arm as she stared in concern. "Just listen to him."

Oberyn sighed as he moved to hold her hands, seeing Obara being escorted by Margaery through the paths of the gardens, smelling the flowers. "I'll admit, I'm slightly offended that you would degrade my skill of fighting... do you fear that I will die? Honestly? Truly...  _do you?_ " He pleaded, searching her gaze as she glowered into his eyes firmly.

"You are stupid." The words were said in a mere whisper, but they were full of rage and pain which made Oberyn raise his eyebrows in complete surprise. "Or maybe you are just insane. Or you have a death wish, I do not know... you are not thinking straight." She looked over at her son and her heart clenched as the infant sat happily with her mother.

Oberyn laughed aloud, which only stimulated her rage. "If you are talking about the trial by…"

"I'm talking about the bloody trial by combat." Eliana interrupted him, her gaze still harsh as she did so. "Why? Why would you give your life for a Lannister? You hate all of them! Why would you die for Tyrion?"

"Why would you?" He challenged immediately as a counter attack, stepping towards her.

"Because he's already saved my life once!" Eliana claimed, staring him down as she struggled to collect her before continuing despite the anger she could feel coursing through her body freely. "I owe him a debt."

"Lia," Catelyn called to her daughter gently as she glanced over at her mother, as she glided around, soothing Alaric as he clutched onto her shoulder. "Perhaps you should listen to Oberyn; listen to what he has to say at least."

He examined her silently with the same curiosity he did when they first met one another... that first encounter that your eyes, hair and the colour of her skin amazed him... the love he grew for her voice, her accent and the sharpness of her tongue... He planned to become more familiar with her; one day he would know every inch of her skin and the taste of her lips, and he would call her his wife. But now, now he was seeing something he had never seen before…  ** _Fear_**. Something new, and something that worried him.

"The Mountain murdered my sister and her children," Oberyn explained the reasoning she knew all too well, "You  _know_  I want to avenge them."

Taking a step forwards, her hands grasping the orange fabric of his tunic, her knuckles turning white as he eyes remained fixed upon her. "Then kill him... poison him, or send someone to... I'll do it, I told you I would. But please, do not fight against him. Please, I don't doubt your skill - and never will I, but you can't jeopardise what we have..."

"You look scared, my love."

"I don't want you to die."

"You undervalue my fighting skills."

The grasp on his tunic grew even stronger. "They call him ' _The Mountain'..._ What can a snake do against a mountain?" Even for the most ingenuous, the desperate tone of Eliana's voice was obvious, and Oberyn could not help but feel pleased by the concern her eyes showed.

His callous hands seized her waist as he pulled Eliana to him, "Where does all this worry come from?" He breathed quietly, leaning towards her as he pressed his forehead against her own. "If I live or if I die... I am more than happy to have shared my life and love with you, I have delighted to have created a life that will know love and riches."

Opening her eyes, Eliana stepped away from him, but he continued to hold onto her wrists tightly. "Do not dare to say such things to me, Oberyn! Do not try to pretend you can't see it, you are not  _that_  stupid. For all the Gods, I love you... I can't even think..."

"Of losing me?" He completed the words, and she remained silent all the same, feeling tears brimming in her eyes instead as she fought to rid them before they betrayed her to him. "Oh, my love..." He murmured as he pulled her closer, his lips covering hers softly while his hands trailed to her face before he pulled away, holding her face in them. "Don't think for a single second that I don't care... of course I care, I've cared since you came to Dorne with your arrogance, with your wintry blizzard... and I will come back to you, after the trial is done."

With his hands still holding her face, Eliana's own hands met his as she stared at him, refusing to break away. "Promise me."

Fixing his eyes upon hers, seemingly mesmerised by something only he could see. "Lia... I promise you that for everything that is good and beautiful in this world, that I will come back to your side." With that, he moved forward and pressed his lips against hers while Catelyn approached the pair of the when she saw a rather out-of-breath Loras approaching.

Hearing heavy breaths, they all glanced towards its source, to see a rather out of breath looking Loras. "Prince Oberyn..." He breathed as Eliana smiled softly as the young knight.

He paused so he could breath properly, wiping his forehead as Catelyn rolled her eyes in embarrassment for the young knight. "For Gods sake, get on with it, Loras! I told you to inform us when the trial was to start, not hyperventilate."

Flushed and still trying to regain his breathing steadily, Loras nodded and turned to Oberyn. "... The trial is about to start."

Grinning brightly, Oberyn clasped his wife's hand to pull her along with him and pressed a kiss to Catelyn's forehead as they began to walk through the gardens as she carried his son, who continued to fuss with his grandmother's hair. "I will show you that even mountains crumble into the sea, my love."

* * *

Seating himself beside his father, Jaime didn't ignore the glower his sister was delivering Tywin but it appeared his father was. However, when the siblings eyes connected for a split second, Cersei merely glanced away with a sigh and a moment of disgust.

Jaime's attention remained fixed upon his father, who was seated with a soft smirk pulling his lips, which unintentionally intrigued him. "Today's the day - you think you'll have gotten rid of Tyrion for good? You'd be foolish to believe that even for a second." However, Tywin ignored him and continued to watch whatever was before him with interest. Frowning, Jaime followed his father's gaze and his eyes widened when he saw what his father was looking - no, who his father was looking at - Eliana.

Despite how he endeavoured mentally, he couldn't prevent the sensation of betrayal that plagued his mind as he looked back to his father, overwhelmed to say the least at having noticed the attraction there. "You can't..." Jaime was inept at stooping the words leaving his mouth, "You... desire her."

Finally looking over at him, Tywin gave a shrug of his shoulders, "So, what if that is the case? She is an attractive woman...am I ought not to be attracted to her?"

Gritting his teeth, Jaime's narrowed. "No," He ground out.

"And who are you to stop me?" Tywin challenged haughtily, causing Jaime's eyes to widen. "As if I would try anything..."

Jaime frowned at his reply, "That hasn't stopped you before..."

"Indeed, it hasn't."

Jaime shuddered, going rigid in his chair at the knowledge that his father would take his lady if he thought necessary... and that chilled him to the bone,  _no_  - to his very core, in fact and what worried him even more, was that he knew he would be lucky to prevent it.

Clasping her hands together in anticipation, Eliana couldn't help but pace in slight hysteria, especially knowing that one wrong move and her husband would be taken from her so simply... she couldn't bear to even consider it as she watched the crowds form, though, she was thankful that most were Dornish rather than those who supported the Lannisters cause.

However, her jaw clenched once again when she caught sight of Cersei in the stands, her eyes trained upon her as she stood waiting for Oberyn, with her father and brother sat beside her, Tywin nodding in her direction respectively as an immediate smirk twisted across his lips whilst Jaime just stared at her, his gaze unwavering as he watched her before a smile flickered across his face.

Reaching out for her, she jumped when she felt a hand clamp down upon her arm to see Oberyn looking rather amused by her reaction to his simple touch. "You truly are worried for my life... aren't you, my love?" He questioned quietly, as she looked over his armour, frowning as Tyrion marched out to meet them.

"Of course, I am." Eliana informed him curtly, her hand slipping into his as he smiled at her softly.

"Looks like very light armour," Tyrion noted, eyeing Oberyn's amour suspiciously as the Dornishman grinned in amusement at the dwarf's worry.

Shrugging, Oberyn smiled wider at his friend, "I like to move around, I suppose you could say, no?" He glanced back at Eliana, who didn't look amused by his reply in the slightest. "'Tis the truth, why should I stand still when I have this entire arena to run around? Seems a shame to waste it..."

Tyrion sighed, shifting upon his feet as he dared a glance up at his family. "You could at least wear a helmet," He advised, his eyes widening when he saw Oberyn reach for a glass of wine and drinking. "You shouldn't drink before a fight, either..."

"You learn this during your years in the fighting pits?" Oberyn questioned with a soft frown, pulling Eliana to him as she sighed in discontentment at his action. "I always drink before a fight, everyone who has watched me in battle knows this, my little dwarf friend..."

"It could get  _you_  killed... it could get  _me_  killed."

Oberyn nodded in understanding, however, his eyes were upon his wife as he smiled at her lovingly. "Today is not the day I die..." He murmured for her to hear, turning towards her and casting ignorance in the direction of Tyrion. Behind them, the crowd erupted into cheers at the sight of Ser Gregor Clegane as he trudged into the arena, dragging his armour and greatsword with him. "Even mountains crumble into the sea..."

"Oh, do they?" Tyrion questioned, gesturing to Gregor. "Even ones that size in particular?"

Chuckling, Oberyn sent the dwarf a sharp grin as Grand Maester Pycelle hobbled into the centre of the arena. "... In the sight of gods and men, we gather to ascertain the guilt or innocence of this... man, Tyrion Lannister." The oaf announced with great exaggeration of difficulty which Eliana perceived to be a lie to the entire court. "May the Mother grand them mercy, may the Father give them justice as they deserve, and may the Warrior guide the hand..."

He never got to finish his drawl -thank the Gods- as Tywin had waved his hand for the horns to sound, thankfully cutting off the grey-sunken cunt to will him to hobble away once more, so the fighting could get underway as quickly as possible.

Smiling, Oberyn turned to his wife and moved towards her. "One for luck." She murmured as he captured her lips softly.

" _Just one._ " Oberyn had whispered, frowning when he pulled away from her to question her tormenting him. "What about after?"

"How do I know there will be an after?" Eliana countered as he pressed his lips against her cheek as if to try to weaken her to grant him his wish.

Oberyn smiled wider at her words, smoothing her hair with his hand as it settled upon her cheek. "I would not dare leave this world without another one of your kisses." He spoke fiercely, his viper eyes boring into her.

"So go." Eliana urged him.

"I will win for you and our son." He vowed with another grin that worried her even further. "It is my promise."

"And it is my promise that a kiss you shall receive." Eliana replied, leaning forward to press her lips to his olive skin. "After you win."

"After I win." He muttered, resting his forehead against hers, gripping his hands tightly in his own.

Clenching her jaw, she nodded solemnly. " _After you win,_ " She whispered, and despite her promise, kissed him again before he drew away, pressing his own lips to her hands. "Do not leave me alone in this world."

" _Never._ "

Her hands dropped to her sides as she stared after him, the hysteria seeping into her minds. Eliana knew Oberyn wouldn't -couldn't- leave King's Landing until he had done what he came for, and she knew he was more than capable of winning the trial... but the Mountain was at least three times his size, and Oberyn was never exactly careful when it came to fighting... and if he won the trial, what other dangers would await them?

Eliana had seen Oberyn fight many times before... she'd seen him teach his daughters to fight, teach her to fight the Southern way. He knew what he was doing, but he believed too much, and that worried her. What made it worse, was that the ground practically shook with each step the Mountain took, and Oberyn waltzed around as though he were completely unaffected by any disadvantage, choosing to taunt him as much as he did fight.

As soon as his fingers left hers, Oberyn sent his spear twisting, spinning and flipping into the air around him as he worked up a decent rhythm to weave around the mountain, twirling with prowess and ease. Turning smoothly, Oberyn tilted his head at Gregor in question whilst a small smirk played upon his lips, "Have they told you who I am?" He dared to ask, his smirk evolving into a grin which spread across his face immediately upon arrival. Oberyn dance around the Mountain, as the warrior moved silently, for the most part, but Oberyn continued to boast his monologue as he jabbed at the larger man's armour.

"Some dead man!" Exclaimed Gregor as he charged at Oberyn, his greatsword cutting through the air to be brought down, hoping to inflict some damage, but Oberyn parried the assault effortlessly.

Fending him off, Oberyn stared solemnly before beginning to walk. "I am the brother of Elia Martell... Oberyn announced, sauntering around the giant with a grim expression setting across his usual playful features. "Do you know why I've come all this way to this stinking shit pile of a city?  _For you_." He finished, sending his spear towards the giant but he deflected and parried the attack easily. Sprinting towards him, Gregor's blade almost caught Oberyn if he hadn't shifted backwards upon his feet to continue pacing. "I am going to here you confess before you die."

"You raped my sister, You murdered her. You killed her children. Say it now and we can make this quick..." Unannounced but predictable, Gregor charged at Oberyn with his sword raised high in the air, ready to bring it down upon the Dornishman. However, Oberyn swiftly parried the attack with a smirk.

Despite Oberyn's reasoning, Gregor chose to ignore him as he broke into a run, hoping to bring his sword down upon his shoulder.

Bringing up his own weapon, Oberyn deflected the attack and swiftly returned the dosage of jabs, causing his armour to clink with each hit that made its mark. Stepping around the giant as it stumbled forward, Oberyn struck the back of his head forcefully, knocking his helmet to the ground as Gregor only just managed to steady himself.

Glancing at Tyrion, she noted that the dwarf was on the edge of shouting at Oberyn as he tormented the man mountain, spinning and twirling around him with his spear as he tried to deal hits whilst Oberyn continued to dodge him gracefully, flashing grins in their direction every so often which caused her to roll her eyes, shaking her head in annoyance. "Oberyn is toying with him." She said loud enough for Tyrion to hear.  _Just kill him_. Eliana wished, for herself, for their son and his daughters, for Dorne. He saw so many reasons worth risking death for, because of his sister... but all Eliana saw were reasons she needed him to live for.

"Say it." Oberyn hissed as the Mountain swung around suddenly, his blade connecting with Oberyn's spear to his irritation, "You raped her," He said again whilst he continued to dance around the Mountain. "You murdered her, you killed her children!" Oberyn recited as he met each one of Gregor's attempts with his own weapon, gritting his teeth in ferocity as he did so.

There was noise all around her; the imp was muttering something, the crowd was cheering or gasping at the action going on before them. But all she could hear were her heart pounding and the sound of metal on metal every time one of them made contact with the other, all she could see was Oberyn swirling and the sun glinting off of him.

"You raped her," Oberyn hissed at the giant, blocking his countless attackss despite the ferocity of Gregor's hits which sending ripples along the body of his spear, he still managed to retain his stance as their weapons collided. "You murdered her!" He bellowed, thrusting his spear in Gregor's direction, the blade's edge taunting him as they danced with one another. "You killed her children!"

The Viper's spear came towards him once more, however, Gregor perceived the attack and raised an armoured left as his foot connected with Oberyn's low abdomen, sending him to the ground unexpectedly.

At the sight, Eliana started forward in panic at the scene.

Rising to his feet, Oberyn grinned an dbegan spinning his spear as he neared Gregor, his eyes menacing, whilst the giant backed away, growling when the spear hit the ground which allowed him to bring his sword down upon it... snapping it in two.

His heart pounding, Tyrion stepped forward.

Without a weapon, the Mountain to advantage of the defenceless snake or at least, he attempted to do so but Oberyn weaved free to dance around him to a short freedom to claim a replacement.

Beginning to twirl the spear, Oberyn moved closer to Gregor before it shot out towards the giant, hitting his breast plate with a sharp clatter. While within teach, the Mountain took his chance and grabbed Oberyn's collar once he'd side-stepped out of the way, throwing him to the ground as if he was as doll sewn for a princess before he rounded on him.

Rushing to where he lay, Oberyn rolled just in time to have his spear meet the greatsword of Ser Gregor Clegane, deflecting the blow skillfully until he found himself on his knees perfectly.

He lunged.

A groan bound through the air.

Instantly, the spearhead pierced the Mountain's armour, yielding his movements momentarily as Oberyn rose properly and ripped the weapon free. Stumbling forwards, Oberyn threw his spear against the back of him, causing the giant to skid away from him as he continued to exclaim in fury, " _You raped her! You murdered her!_ "

With gradual momentum, Gregor steadied himself briefly before turning to run at Oberyn as his back was turned, hoping to strike wonderfully during his moment of vulnerability. However, Oberyn stepped away just in time, and turned forcing his spearhead along Gregor's ankles as a rumble ripped around them and into the crowds of the court.

Rendered futile to the pain rocketing through his freakishly large body, Gregor found himself falling to his knees as Oberyn prowled like his employers.

Eliana drew a breath at the sight, realising that she hadn't done so in quite some time, fearing the fatality of her husband.

Observing as the Mountain crumbled just like he'd told them he would, Oberyn smirked to himself at the sight he relished immensely. Clutching his spear tightly, he broke out into a run, his grip taut and secure and he lept into the air, " _You killed her children!_ " He roared as he spear broke inside the Mountain, the Dornishman leaping past him to land upon his feet.

Smiling to himself, Jaime glanced beside him to see the grim faces of his family as their gazes never left the scene before them, and he couldn't help but smirk.

At the sight, the crowd began to clamour in disgust whilst Oberyn continued to pace around the Mountain, not satisfied with his demise, "Wait... Are you dying?" He questioned, frowning as the sight as he wiped Gregor's blood from his face. " No, no, no. You can't die yet, you haven't confessed!" Oberyn growled in demand, retrieving his broken spear from the Mountain and ripping it free and he stepped away.

" _Say it..._  Say her name. Elia Martell." Oberyn begged of him, prowling like a mad man as Eliana watched on, hoping he would see sense and back away, knowing he'd won. "You raped her. You killed her children. Turning to the stands, his gaze met Tywin's. "Elia Martell... Who gave you the order? Who gave you the order?! Say her name!"

Glancing back at Gregor, Oberyn's brow deepened to see him barely moving. "If you die before you say her name, Ser, I will hunt you through all seven hells..." He threatened, his anger returning immediately. "You raped her! You murdered her! You killed her children.  _Say it._  Say her name.  _Say it!_ " Oberyn circled him, ever the Viper, and glanced up to see his wife, grinning at her but she merely shook her head.

"Leave it Oberyn, you've won..." Eliana spoke softly, reminding him that he had a promise to keep, and that he had to honour it.  _You've killed him, you have your vengeance. Now remember why you must live_.

Whether Oberyn realized her message or not she could not tell, but when his eyes returned to the Mountain they were empty of the smile that had touched them a moment ago.

"Say the name!" continued Oberyn, as he moved one foot upon the chest of the Mountain, lifting his opponent's greatsword, placing it deep within his chest as the Mountain grabbed for him.

Thankfully, Oberyn was careful enough to anticipate it, because he moved fast enough to lean out of the way, and when he stumbled, his stumble forward only made the greatsword pierce the Mountains chest further, and the giant's attempt to knock Oberyn off balance was only successful in allowing Oberyn to kill him sooner than intended.

Oberyn gave a cry of fury, which may have been mistaken as triumph to everyone else, but Eliana knew him well enough to know the difference; Oberyn hadn't wanted Clegane to die without a confession... but he'd not spoken his sister's name or who had ordered him to do what he did.

The crowd roared, especially the Dornish, but Eliana could see the fury in her lover's eyes even as he dropped his spear to make his way over to her, his teeth ground and jaw clenched. "He didn't say her name." Oberyn growled as soon as she had released him.

Sighing, she nodded. "Then you may hunt him through all seven hells, but not for quite some time, please..."

"I promise." He said softly, gently wiping her wet cheek with his thumb, smiling softly before taking her hands in his. "I won't leave you."

Oberyn turned to face Tywin with a burning fire within his smoldering gaze, however, Tywin held his gaze with the lack of any emotion before the Dornishman looked away.

Tyrion turned to the Goldcloaks guarding him and shook his chained wrists before them. Looking nervously, they both glanced towards the mighty Tywin, Tyrion followed their gaze and smiled up at his father, who looked completely engulfed by rage at the sight of what had occurred before him. Glowering at his youngest, before slowly rising and moving away without saying a word.

The crowds stared after the Hand of the King in perplexity, and Tyrion feared he would return to the depths of Black cells until the High Septon rose and announced, "The Gods have made their will know, and have found Tyrion of the House Lannister innocent. Guards, release him."

With that, the shackles were removed and for the first time in what seemed an eternity, Tyrion felt the clutches of freedom. Moving across the courtyard, Tyrion met the gazes of those he knew thought they would be witnessing his death, "How I love to disappoint." Tyrion thought to himself, heading backwards the Red Keep where he planned to drink until he could no longer stand.

Suddenly Cersei intercepted his path, a blanket of pure fury masked her tear-stained face as she glowered at him darkly... despite her reasoning for wanting his death, he couldn't help but feel sorry for her, knowing she'd lost part of her in all of the recent occurrences... she'd lost her son. "You won't get away with this Imp."

Tyrion looked at her as serenely as he was able to in that moment, "Oh, Sweet sister... you're mistaken, I just have. I'm innocent as I told you, I had no part in Joffrey's murder no matter how you may believe differently."

"Liar," hissed Cersei in a low voice, "You are a kinslayer, and you are- "

Tyrion, however, had heard enough of her waffle and interrupted her speech of fury by continuing in the direction of the Red Keep.

"Where do you think you are going?" Cersei hollered after him.

"To be reacquainted with our treasury... and some wine, I believe. After all, I am a drunken little lech, remember?" Tyrion replied jubilantly, as Cersei said nothing in response but Tyrion could feel her eyes glaring daggers into the back of his head.

Tyrion wasn't in slightest worried about Cersei and her impotent threats and idle promises, he'd become accustom to them his entire life.. if anything, he feared the wrath of his father as the man had vanished wordlessly. Smiling to himself, Tyrion recalled Oberyn's words with a relieved sigh...  _yes, even mountains crumble into the sea_.

 


	56. Pursuit

"I want her dead."

Tywin chuckled at his daughter's words, bringing his wine to his lips as he drank deeply. "I recall you've spoken those words before... are you still worrying over a Stark?" He seated himself in his chair, turning his back on the sun as it glittered through the room to blind him, bouncing of every piece of silver.

Cersei scoffed, prowling around his chambers with her own wine sat in her hand. "She's a threat... you'd be stupid to not worry over her... but apparently you're so engrossed by her to ignore that, aren't you? Mauling her like some leg of Mutton." She hissed, bearing her teeth in his direction as Tywin merely raised his eyebrows at her accusation of his actions, which she recalled to be sound.

"It was a mutual agreement... and as I said before,  _I enjoy her_ , is there any harm in that? I just simply find myself gravitating to her, possibly because of her ambition and respect for her family's legacy." Tywin informed for Cersei's sour benefit, knowing that he words would surely infuriate his daughter only further. But where was the lie? He still enjoyed her, he took her view highly into account, he still found her interesting - more than any member of her family had been. "I take it that she is still causing a travesty by breathing?" He smirked in amusement, placing his hand under his chin. " _And I don't like mutton._ "

Cersei merely continued to scowl at him. "She killed him..."

"Who,  _Joffrey?_ " Tywin questioned as Cersei fell silent but nodded vigorously at him. "I highly doubt it, in fact, I know she didn't... because any bloody fool would have noticed a severely pregnant woman meddle with the King's wine, no?" Tywin asked shortly, his temper growing gradually as Cersei glowered at him. " _Oh, but what if she paid someone to do it?_  ... No, Cersei."

"You don't know that she didn't!" Cersei exclaimed, her wine glass soaring across the room to smash against a wall. "She's cunning, you know, I've seen what she can do... she beheaded a man and returned the head to me, she killed Ser Osmund, father! How can you sit there and protect her... over your own blood, how- "

"Because she has sense!" Tywin interrupted with a hollow laugh, knowing that his daughter's jealousy for the woman was growing everyday as Eliana assumed more power. "Look at yourself; you're drunk, maddened and willing to point the blame upon anyone you deem necessary - she did not do it - you can claim all the infliction you want, but it has only been you who has wronged her."

"Did you tell her about my plan to have her son killed?" Cersei growled, her eyes narrowing at him but Tywin shook his head. "How could've she acted then? You must have told her!"

Tywin rolled his eyes, embarrassed by her drunken behaviour. "Have you heard yourself? Cersei, you are drunk and maddened, you haven't seen any sense for a long while." Tywin paused, his gaze dark but fury resided within their depths. "She had every right to act in that particular way, seeing as you threatened her son - you deserved that outcome."

Cersei, however, had other plans. If he wasn't willing to help her do so, she would have to seek aid through the hands of others... "I'll have to act in other ways then." She suggested, taking a gulp of her wine.

Tywin didn't look convinced by her threat, knowing that his daughter wouldn't have the stomach to do such a thing, and neither was she as cunning as she believed herself to be. "And what farce will you come up with this time around?"

"She needs to know her place." Cersei roared in annoyance and barely managing to keep her fury at bay, sick of the Stark bitch getting in the way of everything that made her life perfect. "I will get her to confess to his murder!" Slamming her hands down upon his desk, Cersei glowered at her father. "She needs to know where she belongs."  _In the kennels..._

"Oh, as I assured you before, she knows her place very well unlike yourself, don't quarrel with her for the sake of doing so." Tywin advised with a sharp look, not looking at all influence by her words or actions for that matter, which roused another chuckle of amusement from within him. "If that was another attempt of yours at trying to convince me to aid you in murdering another nemesis of yours... you even worse than I originally concluded."

Cersei's face contorted in disgust before she realised she was moving swiftly in the direction of the door, not sparing her so-called father another look as she excused herself, her mind beginning to work away to devise a solution on how to rid the realm of another Stark. Knowing her father wouldn't help her, she would have to turn to other sources of aid in the form of her guards... she would take care of her for good but first, first, she needed answers.

The answers that Eliana Stark was keeping from her; the truth.

* * *

Tyrion Lannister was having a bitter night despite having been finally freed of his shackles only hours ago... the air carried a bitter chill to it as he stared out over his balcony, the wine in his glass had left a coppery tang on his tongue and his recovery had wavered slightly upon the sudden arrival of his dear sweet father as he informed him that Cersei wouldn't rest until someone was properly punished for the demise of Joffrey. He sighed and rubbed at his face wearily, he could feel the tears threatening to fall... he'd lost everything, his dignity -not that there was any to begin with- and Shae, Bronn, Pod...

Stepping inside the chamber, Jaime's brow deepened as he clapped his upon his brother where he stood in the embrace of the breeze that whipped around the keep that evening, his head in his hands as Jaime realised he was... crying? Closing the door behind, he lent against the body of the wood and sighed to himself, his heart going out to his brother as he watched him, recalling the first time he'd witnessed his crying.

" _A malformed babe._ " He'd heard one wet nurse whisper to another. " _A dwarf, with too large a head and mismatched eyes._ " He'd heard rumours of his brother that chilled him to the bone, " _Covered in scales, apparently._ " had said one of his father's guards to a fellow guard. " _With the tail of a dragonling, too._ "

It was when he overheard the Maester talking with his Aunt Genna that he needed to see the babe. " _He is trifling small..._  " He had spoken, though he couldn't see his aunt's reaction. " _He shan't survive the winter._ "

A baby brother... the replacement of his mother, but despite all of the travesty, Jaime couldn't bring himself to hate the infant for his wrongdoing - what had he done apart from being born? His sister's eyes grew with hatred, telling him, " _It's a little monster..._ " She spat angrily, " _A horrible creature that killed our mother._ "

Jaime had known she wanted him dead, she had wanted to kill it... she'd said so many times.  _A horrible creature..._ if Cersei had named him so, then it ought to be true... but Jaime's couldn't suppress his blooming curiosity. He couldn't help but think Cersei would make him kill his little brother, he protect his sister... would he have to kill their brother, the dwarf whose head was too large and watched as his mismatched eyes grew lifeless, with scales and a tail?

He'd heard it one night - a little whimper, echoing across the castle, depriving him of sleep. It reminded him of a call for help... Jaime always wanted to be a knight, and a knight protect the innocent... his brother was innocent.

He followed the noise which led him to the babe's nursery.

Shakily peering around the door, Jaime's eyes narrowed as they adjusted to the darkness of the room - it was freezing, and melancholy lingered within the air, it was no place for a baby. Once his eyes landed upon the crib, he wandered it in the room, quickly and quietly moving towards it before peering in.

He was met by a pair of bright eyes, one green and the other black, and immediately Jaime found himself extended a finger towards the babe. To his shock, the babe clutched it within his tight grasp and gurgled at the action.

Briefly glancing about, Jaime sighed determinedly before picking up the babe from his crib. The lightness of his brother surprised him, as wrapped a blanket around him tightly, not wanting him to catch his death, before moving his towards the light.

Glancing down at his brother, Jaime smiled. He wasn't the little monster or creature like Cersei had said, was his first thought. His brother's head was little large, his limbs a little small, his hair a dirty blonde rather than the Lannister golden... there were no scales nor a tail. He was tiny, just like the Maester had said, and in need of comfort.

The babe in his arms was the only thing left of his mother.

He gritted his teeth at the thought of his brother being left all alone in that dark room, left to shiver to death in that crib of his with no love, with no one. His brother had no one... he had his father and Cersei, but his brother was all alone.

A sudden rush of pity surged through him at the expense of his baby brother - he was to grow up grotesque and misshapen, his world soaked in hatred and insouciance... an unfortunate soul, who had been born to their family by chance, never to be knighted or valued by his father, by the Kingdoms.

Having not paid attention, Jaime soon found he'd taken his brother to the western tower where the view of the sea was simply wondrous... but babe belong to the family, he was a Lannister of Casterly Rock, he belonged the rock. He was a child of the westerlands just as much as Jaime was. " _Little brother look outside,_ " he cooed to the babe in his arms, watching as the babe stared in the direction of the window causing Jaime to smile.  _He's clever._ He immediately thought,  _cleverer than any babe he'd seen before... his baby brother._

 _Baby brother._  That sounded right in Jaime's mind, he was his baby brother... his to love, his to hold, and his to protect from the world if no one else would do so.  _Brave little brother,_ he grinned at the infant.

" _What in the Seven - Jaime!_ " The boy turned swiftly to find his Aunt Genna moving towards where he stood with his brother, staring wide-eyed. " _What in the name of the seven do you think you're doing?_ "

Jaime tightened his hold upon his brother protectively, " _I only wanted to show him the sea, Aunt Genna..._ " Jaime had explained, his grin never faltering as he spoke. " _He's a Lannister of Casterly Rock, he should get to see his home._ " Jaime had said in his defence, his stubbornness causing Genna to chuckle as he continued to cradle the babe against his chest.

Genna smiled softly at her nephew, " _Oh, come here._ " Her hand seized his shoulder as Jaime shifted towards her. " _Your mother would be proud of you, Jaime._ "

Jaime's eyes widened before looked back down at his brother, smiling as he clutched his finger. " _She would?_ "

Genna nodded, her smile growing. " _She would have wanted you to love him, she would have wanted it above anything. But your father, he never will and nor will you sister either... that means that you will have took look after little Tyrion, Jaime. You will look after him, won't you?_ "

Jaime beamed at his aunt's words, but more so at his brother's name,  _Tyrion_. He looked back at the babe to find a curious face staring up at him, his finger still locked within his tiny fingers.  _"I'll protect you, Tyrion._ " He promised, _I am your brother, and I will love you until the day I die._

"There's nothing left in the world I want now, except perhaps to complete my revenge." Jaime announced to his brother, startling Tyrion as he swung around to face him, his fingers furiously rushing to rid his face of his tear. "I deserve vengeance... so do you." He moved further into the chamber.

"Why are you here?" Tyrion spat, downing the last of his wine. "Shouldn't you be consoling our dear sister beneath her sheets? ... Or is she still denying you access because of your love for Lia? Why are you here, Jaime?" Tyrion demanded, his eyes ridden with fury as he stared at him madly.

"Forgiveness," Jaime all but whispered as he neared his brother. "I left you to rot in the dungeons, I never attempted to to rescue you... what sort of a brother does that make me? I failed to protect you from the first, I allowed our sister to jail you for the murder of her son without a fair trial, I didn't stand witness for you... I didn't volunteer myself as your champion... " Jaime paused, trying to catch his breath. "I didn't even try."

Hearing his words chilled Tyrion's spine, witnessing his brother so weak in that moment roused fear from within him as his brother knelt before him. "You don't need to beg for forgiveness... I'm not your mistress; you had it already." Tyrion replied, setting down his glass as Jaime's eyes followed his every move. "Now, why are you  _truly_ here?"

Jaime gulped, as he suppressed to the urge to choke on the tears threatening to fall. "Cersei won't accept your freedom, brother... you know that." He begun in a hushed tone, as Tyrion's eyes narrowed at him while he nodded in understanding, wanting him to go on. "I beg you to leave with me, ride North with me."

"What?" Tyrion laughed, truly thinking that Jaime had finally gone mad after all that time.

"Leave with me when the time is right." Jaime implored desperately but Tyrion continued to laugh. "I am to leave the city with Lia when she's rides North, you can come with us! She won't mind, she enjoys your company, please Tyrion...  _come with us_."

Tyrion shook his head, "You're mad... you honestly think Cersei would not know? That she wouldn't come after us? That she wouldn't continue to pursue me, the bane of her life?" Tyrion questioned Jaime's idiotic behaviour, "She won't rest until I'm dead! She made that quite clear long ago, and if you've forgotten, then you might as well just leave me be."

However, Tyrion couldn't help but wonder why Jaime was to ride North with Lia... to battle? To reclaim Winterfell, maybe? Or was it past the lands of her family that they dared to travel? He didn't know and nor did he care... nothing but peril lied before them, peril and their deaths. "What is there North for you anyway?" Tyrion inquired wryly, his gaze still narrowed.

"A new life."

* * *

"She loves you, you must see that – or are you too blind to see the love you have for one another? The love which created my grandson?" She stared hopelessly as Oberyn charged around the room, his fists clenched whilst Markas and Thomos stood aside, their eyes weary as the Viper laughed at his good mother's words. "You would question her love because she's not here?"

"Your daughter is not the woman I gave my heart to in Dorne!" Oberyn turned, his finger in Catelyn's direction and he seethed, his fury barely containable. "She is changed... and he's behind it, that lion has changed her - haven't you seen them together? How they stare at one another behind my back?"

Rolling her eyes, Catelyn folded her arms over her chest in disapproval. "Is she with him now?" She asked as Oberyn held her gaze until it wavered soon enough, the silence between them growing eerily. "She's with  _your_  son and  _your_  daughter... she's not with Jaime. If she wanted him, why did she choose you as her husband? Why did she not agree to Tywin's proposal?"

"To spite Tywin Lannister, not because of the love she held for me." Oberyn contradicted, his eyes growing sad at his own words as he realised that she had not married him for their love, she married him to get even and to get leverage over one of the most powerful men within the Seven Kingdoms. "She does not love me as she once did... he holds her heart, I am merely filling it until she decides it is time to cast me aside."

Catelyn rolled her eyes at his words.

"I've waited for her to return to me," Oberyn let out quietly, his eyes solemn in that moment. "And just when I thought I'd gotten her back, it turns out, I'm losing her fast than I realised... how did it even happen?"

"Their friendship is clueless to me, Oberyn. I've asked her the same question, and it seems not even she knows the true answer which doesn't at all surprise me in the least..." Catelyn sighed deeply, "But they have an admiration for one another that I believe is entirely my fault, I sent on the road with one another..." Catelyn reached her hand towards his arm but he pulled away to begin to pace. "Oberyn..."

"I'm losing her, Cat..." Oberyn sighed, allowing a deep sigh to pass his lips. "I'm losing her to my enemy of all people... how did I let that happen? How did I not realise?!" He hissed, his hands swatting at the table as its contents soared through the air, before he lent over it and tried to retrain his control despite how much he wanted to let it go. "I lost my sister to them... and now my wife. If the Gods are real, then why must they torment me so!"

Feeling a hand rest upon his shoulder, Catelyn came into his view. "No matter how much you deny, she does love you - I've seen it, I know love when I see it - Seven Hells, I watched my own husband fall in love with me... now you can continue with this tantrum I would expect an infant to pull or you can fight for her." Catelyn chastised him, her frown deep as he listened intently and allowed her hands to take his face into them. "I don't expect you to give up on her so easily, she's been loyal to you even if she does hold feeling for a Lannister."

Oberyn said nothing.

"She honours you, and you  _will_  honour her." Catelyn told him sternly, his eyes never leaving her as he continued to pay her attention. "I won't let you throw this marriage into the dirt because you think she's after another man - if you want her away from the Lion's den, you'll have to get her North... but don't you think for a second he won't come after her."

"She doesn't belong to him." Oberyn sneered, his hands trailing up to Catelyn's as he pulled them away from his head.

Sighing, Catelyn hit him on the side of the head suddenly, catching him off guard. "My daughter is not a prize to be won, don't treat her as such." She reminded with a small smile as Oberyn stepped away from her.

"Forgive me, my lady." Oberyn apologised, ignoring the slight pain in his head. "It's just he has his golden claws in her so deep, I believe I can't pry her free of them... I've tried, but as soon as they retract, they're back in place again." He spoke, rubbing his hand over his face in exasperation. "They have their claws deep within her, and I fear I will never get her back."

Catelyn's smile grew, "There's something that is known as  _trying_ , Oberyn." She spoke as he scoffed at her teasing, shaking his head as she smiled wider. "Trying is better than giving up - if you do that, you might as well hand her over to Jaime Lannister yourself."

Nodding, Oberyn silently agreed. "To try is all I have left, it would seem." He concluded darkly, his brow deepening as he recalled his wife's interactions with the Lannister who had stolen her from him,  _Jaime Lannister the Kinglsayer._ "Or I could take him out..."

"No, not that... anything but that."

"Do you have any suggestions, Catelyn?" Oberyn pressed, his brows furrowed deeply as Catelyn shifted upon her feet, obviously having thought of something but it wasn't necessary something he'd like to listen to. "Go on, Cat."

"Talk to him."

* * *

Tiny fingers trying to grasp the crown that was set before him, Alaric gurgled as he struggled to reach in whilst sat upon his mother's lap. "You will wear that crown one day, like your uncle did before you..." She whispered in marvel, smiling into his hair as he still tried to grab it. "You will know great power unlike so many before you, they will bow to you, respect you... like your forefathers, like your great-grandfather, grandfather and your uncle."

"Was that Robb's crown, Lia?" Obara's voice drifted through the room as she wandered toward to where Lia sat with Alaric as she nodded, sitting besides them as she stared at the crown in awe. "Who crafted it? Where?"

"It was crafted by the smith of my grandfather at Riverrun after my brother was named King in the North and King of the Trident." Eliana explained softly as she passed it to Obara so she could look it over, her eyes ghosting over the decorative features. "It was incised with the runes of the First Men... it's similar to many of the crowns worn by the Stark Kings as far as the Age of Heroes by Bran the Builder."

"Bran the Builder built the Wall, didn't he?" Obara questioned, her eyes narrowing as she handed the crown back to Alaric who continued to fuss over it.

Eliana nodded, "And Winterfell, though some stories say he did those with the help of the giants. It is also said that Bran the Builder gave the Night's Watch Brandon's Gift, a stretch of land 25 leagues wide." She told the sound Sand Snake as Alaric gripped the crown tightly within his grasp.

"Tell me more about your House."

Eliana smiled, "What would you like to know?" She asked Obara softly, watching as the girl thought.

"I want to know more about Robert's Rebellion, but my father would never tell me because of my aunt's death..."

"Do you want to know what happened during the Rebellion?" Eliana questioned as she watched Obara carefully, silently telling her the danger of the story. "Obara, this isn't some tale like Aegon's Conquest where the Realm thrives... Robert's Rebellion was costly more than righteous, and it resulted in murder throughout the Seven Kingdoms... there is no happy ending at the end."

Obara nodded, "I know." She affirmed quietly as Eliana observed her. "But I still want to know."

"It begun with the Tourney at Harrenhal," Eliana started slowly, her eyes trained up her son as Obara pulled him onto her own lap. "A grand tourney was held by Lord Walter Whent at Harrenhal, where many nobles attended from all across the Seven Kingdoms, among them, my family also attended: my father along with his siblings; King Aerys II Targaryen, who had not left the Red Keep for many years, ever since his capture during the Defiance of Duskendale, but Varys persuaded him to attend the tourney.

The tourney was apparently wonderful, though I don't remember much of it, I was still a babe at the time..." Eliana smiled briefly before it turned sour and remorseful. "After winning the final tilt, Rhaegar was to crown the Queen of love and beauty, but instead of crowning his wife, your aunt, he crowned my aunt Lyanna instead. My father always said that in that moment  _all smiles died_ , which soon led to her abduction sometime later."

"Why did he do it?" Obara pressed with a soft frown. "Abduct your aunt?"

Eliana frowned momentarily, "He loved her, but not many believed that to be true- "

"Do you?" Obara cut her off.

"Love drives people to do terrible things, so possibly... but how would I know? I barely remember my aunt, but I remember those indigo eyes that held me once, that I remember." Eliana cleared her throat and decided to go back to the story. "Once news of her abduction had reached my uncle Brandon, he rode at once to King's Landing with his companions; Ethan Glover; Elbert Arryn; Kyle Royce, and Jeffory Mallister. But when he arrived, Rhaegar was not there and instead he was arrested by Aerys on the charge of plotting the murder of Rhaegar."

"But he only wanted his sister back!" Obara argued, her eyes growing dark.

She nodded in agreement, "But Aerys didn't see it that way; he was maddened and beyond his own paranoia... Aerys summoned the fathers of those who stood accused to court but all of them died apart from Ethan Glover. My grandfather arrived with two hundred of his best men, but none of them would do any good nor would they ever return North. My grandfather, Rickard, demanded a trial by combat which was granted but he hadn't known that Aerys would choose fire as his champion."

"What happened?"

"My grandfather was suspended from the rafters in the throne room to be burned alive in his armour whilst my uncle watched, struggling for his own life - you see, he was brought into the room as well and placed in a Tyroshi strangling device, they say. A longsword placed just out of his reach, he strangled himself in an attempt to reach the sword and save his father." Eliana paused and became stiff in her seat as she looked to the direwolf that lurked in the room, sprayed across the floor. "Aerys then called for my father's head and the head of Robert Baratheon but they, along with Jon Arryn, raised their banners in revolt which was seen as the start of the war."

"The fighting began in the Vale of Arryn, though Jon Arryn called for his banners, not all of his bannermen sided with him, some sided with the king and so, they were cut off from accessing Gulltown. My father decided to make his own way back to the north by crossing the Mountains of the Moon to the Fingers, where he needed to find a fisherman who would carry him across the Bite so he could call his banners." Eliana clasped her hands together, "Then came the Battle at Summerhall as just like Jon Arryn, not all the Lords of the Storm Lands had sided with Robert."

Obara sat forward, her grip tightening on Alaric as she listened intently. "This is where those three lords: Grandison, Cafferen, and Fell tried to join their hosts at Summerhall and then march on Storm's End, right?" She questioned as Alaric almost hit her with the crown.

"Robert intercepted their plans and struck first, attacking each army individually as they arrived."

"Then came the Battle of Ashford and the Battle of the Bells, I know of those..." Obara told Eliana impatiently as she smiled sadly, "What next?"

Eliana closed her eyes as she glanced at the floor momentarily, "Then came the Trident," She breathed, her breath somewhat shaky as she contemplated the memory she'd yet to see through her visions that were coming more swiftly by the day. "Eventually, both loyalist and rebel forces came together for that battle. Rhaegar and Robert met in single combat on a ford of the Trident, while the battle crashed around them... Robert slew Rhaegar with a blow to the chest from his warhammer so powerful that it smashed the rubies right from the armour, or so they say."

Eliana wavered at the next part, her voice failing her as she finally looking at Obara with a sorrowful glance and debated whether going into further detail than truly necessary. "Obara, you don't want to know the next part..."

"I do," She argued, "I deserve to know, she was my aunt and there were my cousins! No one speaks of them, and I'm just expected to sit quietly and not ask questions? They were my family too!"

"Obara, thinking you want to know is very different from knowing..." Eliana warned her lightly, "I've seen what happened through my dreams and I wish to forget Obara, it's not something you really want to know about."

"Uncle Doran won't even say Elia's name!" Obara exclaimed, rising to her feet as Alaric almost hit the floor if Eliana had not caught him. "Father says nothing of what happened, only that he wants to take vengeance on the Lannisters! That's all he talks about, that's all he lives for!"

Eliana nodded in understanding, "Obara, if Oberyn hasn't told you then I don't think it's best if I do so either." She rose to her feet and went to place her son in his cradle as she let out a sigh of exasperation and moved across the room towards the door, smoothing Shadow's head as she did so.

Suddenly, Shadow jolted upright, causing Eliana to stiffen as she followed the direwolf's gaze to the door where she frowned deeply, looking back at Obara who was staring down at Alaric thankfully, "Stay here, I'll be back soon enough... just wait here for me."

"You're leaving to tell him, aren't you?"

Eliana turned swiftly, "No, I am going to find your father to see whether any missives have arrived concerning our movement North," Eliana stuck her tongue out before she exited the room, letting the door shut behind her as she ran a hand through her wild hair. She couldn't bare to even think of that dreadful day or the deaths of so many people that was in just and un-rightfully deserved... and Obara couldn't know of that yet, not until Oberyn said so.

Paying no mean to her surroundings, Eliana continued down the deserted hall as a shadow loomed behind her, trailing her movements silently. Nearing her, the hairs upon the back of her neck rose out of instinct as she paused abruptly, moving to turn around until a pair of hands grabbed her from behind and forced her against the wall.

Struggling against the hands, Eliana fought as a chuckle rippled through the air the chill the shell of her ear. "That's it love, quietly now... we wouldn't want to alert that doggy of yours now would we?" And with that, they forced her head against the wall, casting Eliana's mind into darkness.


	57. The Lion's Jaws

They were merely three against a company of seven.

The old Lord Commander, Ser Gerald Hightower led the three of them, with the menacingly smirking Ser Oswell Whent on his right whilst Ser Arthur Dayne lurked on his left. Rippling around them, the breeze whipped through the mountains to stir their white cloaks, sending them billowing in the wave of the breeze.

" _Seven rebels…_ " Arthur murmured under his breath, his eyes narrowed as he remained solidified to the ground, " _Against three sworn brothers._ "

The one who led the rebels was newly a man, but he'd been showered by war… Ned Stark had fought at the Trident where the crown Prince Rhaegar had fallen; he led the Usurper's army to the capital and lifted the siege of Storm's End. Now, the honourable Eddard Stark stood before them with six companions, having travelled through the Red mountains of Dorne to rescue his sister Lyanna, to only find her closely guarded by three nights of the Kingsguard.

 _The last of us_ , Arthur mused to himself as a slow grin transpired across his lips. The rebellion had taken two of their sworn brother yet, it had also shown the true colours of the others who lives.  _They are no brothers of mine_ , he thought as his grip tightened on his ancestral blade, the Valyrian steel blade of his house, Dawn.

Dawn thirsted for blood, the blood of traitors would do.

As the two sides moved towards one another, Arthur sized up the man who stood before him, also bearing a Valyrian steel blade. Eddard Stark wasn't the tallest of men but he was well-built and carried his blade with brutal ease. Behind him, Arthur spied, lingered a hooded man in green who wielded a bronze spear delicately.

Around them, the others fanned out from behind the pair of them, mostly of Northmen from what Arthur had witnessed among the blur of colours as they danced around him.

Grey met Purple as they held one another's gaze, understanding one another's intentions fully. Stark raised his sword in acceptance of Dayne's challenge as the other men fell to it with a clamour, shouting as battle cries rung through the air, punctuating the clash of steel upon steel.

Striding forward evenly with his cloak rippling behind him, Arthur led with an overhand slash which Stark block easily, as Arthur had assumed he would, taking it upon himself to test his opponent's strength. Shifting his weight evenly, he brought Dawn around as an attempt to swiftly hew at Stark's unguarded right side, but again Stark parried perfectly, though slightly less elegantly than before.

Hearing the shift of chain mail behind him, Arthur raised Dawn just in time to block the sword of a Northman who had attempted to sneak up upon him whilst he was unaware and preoccupied, seeking glory or desperate to assist his liege lord…  _fool_.

Arthur swung Dawn down in a flashing arc, hewing off the intruder's head, leaping aside to dodge an opportunistic swing of Stark's blade. Amongst the clangour, Stark hollered a name that drifted lost in the clatter of the battle, and suddenly came at Arthur with a sudden fury, forcing him to retreat a few steps.

Defending himself, he looked past Stark to see Ser Oswell was beset by three rebels who had swarmed him like hornets having been wrongfully roused from the nest, bloody splashing across his white armour, though he didn't know whose it was. Attempting to manoeuvre around Stark, failing, and then tried to push their duel closer towards his sworn brother, he failed once more, Stark holding his ground and refusing to give an inch to the Kingsguard.

Clashing a final time, they planted their feet firmly into the earth beneath them.

Leaning in with all the strength he could muster, whilst Dawn glinted through the sunlight whilst Stark pushed back roughly enough to make him shake, their swords rattling against one another. Arthur's brow deepened when he saw no fear in Stark's eyes but he caught the flicker of doubt that crossed his face momentarily.

That was all Arthur needed.

Through a liquid movement, Arthur moved to thrust his sword down the outer edge of Stark's blade, arching the tip towards the ground before ripping it away. The sword sprung from Stark's grasp and landed in the dust, where it stole his attention for a split second. Grinning, Arthur kicked the great sword out of reach and moved to thrust Dawn forward once more.

Without warning, a sudden agony shambled him, knocking the point of his sword wide, and missing Stark's breastplate with a screech of metal. Glancing behind him, Arthur ground his teeth together when he caught a glimpse of the hooded man withdrawing his spear from the back of his left knee, the bronze point soaked with his blood. Recovering immediately from the shock of the pursuit, Arthur rounded on the assailant, ignoring the blood that was trickling down his calf as he forced it to bear weight.

The hooded man in boiled leather was an easy enough target.

Arthur swung at the crannogman's unprotected neck, but the man neatly dodged the attack and backpedalled out of the Kingsguard's reach, his eyes cautious of Arthur's movements.

Taking another step, Arthur risked a glance over his shoulder to that Stark who had finally recovered his sword, but then Arthur stumbled.

Dawn clattered clumsily from his grip. He extended his arm towards it but found he was unable to wrap his fingers around the hilt of the blade, his muscles were refusing to function properly, the pain in his wound had suddenly increased immensely and unknowingly, a tingling sensation racing up his legs through his body, and finally down his arms.

" _You bog lizard_ ," Arthur muttered in realisation, staring wide-eyed at the hooded man.  _I should have got rid of him first..._ Suddenly, he was clawing at his breastplate, wanting it to be removed, but his hands slugged helplessly against the straps.

Looking right, he saw Ser Gerold fall with a dagger protruding from his visor, his hand clutching the helm of one man as they fell into the dirt together, the other hand finding his throat. The rebel must have from one of the mountain clans, though he continued to struggle against Ser Gerald's grip, but Arthur knew he would have better luck prying a dragon's jaw apart rather than defeat the old Lord Commander.

Glancing to his left, he observed as Ser Oswell lied prone amidst three dead rebels, his bat-winged helm was disfigured in at least a dozen places… so much blood had flowed into the dust that it had concocted mud.

" _The last of us_ ," Arthur recalled once more as he sighed deeply, " _Forgive me, Rhaegar_." Falling to his hands and knees, his vision began to grow dark around the edges as spots began to flash across his pupils, the air hardening within his lungs.

Hearing the dull clangour of armoured feet approaching, he glanced up to see Stark standing over him; his eyes were wide, wide with shock which was written plainly across his face. He didn't know the spear was poisoned, Arthur realised in that moment.

Attempting to speak, Arthur found he could no longer breathe. Let me die a knight's death, he begged silently, and Stark must have heard his wishes.

Taking him by his shoulders, Stark moved him so he was sitting upright before he removed Arthur's helm.

 _Ice_ , Arthur recalled as the blade caught the sun, blinding him as the blade swung through the air.

Stark's sword was piercing, and his aim was just as true.

* * *

She was jolted awake when she felt a cold hand strike her face, send ringing through her ears as she squinted through the light, the sensation of blinding becoming suddenly overwhelming as she struggled against the restraints keeping her in place. "What in the..." Her eyes opened gradually, though still stung as they met the light, she clenched her jaw as they adjusted to the room where she caught a clear view of her wrists manacles to a chain which had been strung high in the air.

"It suits you, doesn't it?" a voice crept over to her, one Eliana was all too familiar with as she cranked her head in the direction it had stirred from, her eyes narrowing as they sat reclined in their chair, a satisfied smile etching across their face. "Chains always did suit you..."

"Is this the result of your quick temper? Your easily wounded pride?" Eliana questioned as she sighed deeply, her usual calm demeanor decreasing as she knew her captor before her had barely considered what unintended consequences her actions might have. "Anyway, manacles aren't my style in the bedroom... sorry to disappoint you, Dowager Queen."

Her fingers clenched around the arms of her chair as her eyes stared plainly at Eliana as she smiled at her, "You think your words can hurt me?"

"I don't know, but your lack of patience will, especially seeing as you're intent on surrounding yourself with sycophants rather than honest and competent advisers... it'll get you killed." Eliana commented as she smiled softly, "You can't trust of them by the way."

"And how would you know?" her blonde her bounced as she cackled at her words, she barely managed to bristle a response.

"They're sycophants, isn't that obvious enough?" She sighed deeply, rolling her eyes as they trailed to the manacles keeping her securely in place. "Pycelle bends the vows of his order to suit his needs... but he's vulnerable; he let someone steal the Strangler from his stores and he hadn't even realised until it was too late. Varys and Littlefinger are just as bad; they both thrive at the hands of our secrets and perils. Varys aids all sides, you know? He's considered of being distasteful and untrustworthy among the court, professing loyalty to those who... What was it?  _Serve the realm."_

Cersei's verdant eyes narrowed at Eliana, "And what of Baelish?"

She shrugged though her smile remained in place, "Littlefinger craves power and status much like a maggot craves a corpse and you give it to him..."

Rising from her chair, Cersei moved towards a table that had been placed near her, her hand settling upon an object Eliana tried to spot but was unable. "I'm going to hurt you for this... you wanted to play the game." She turned to face her, his fist clenched so tight the blood had drained from the skin to glisten like the Northern snow. "When you play the Game of Thrones, you win- "

"- Or you die. There is no middle ground, blah, blah, blah..." Eliana finished dully, her eyes never leaving Cersei as she watched the blonde woman shift around the room to move gradually towards her, a small dirk protruding from her hand. "I know the drill all too well, and it's rather exciting to see you take matters in your own hands... I was wondering when you would to be honest and I have to say, you took your sweet time of it didn't you?"

Cersei's eyes bored into her as she stared at Eliana with a hardened gaze that reminded her of a field of grass rather than valyrian steel. "The only way to keep your people loyal is to make certain they fear you more than they do the enemy... my  _sycophants_ are loyal to me, and only me." With a swift movement, Cersei let the blade slither along Eliana's neck as a trickle of blood trailing after its cool skin.

"You'd like to think..." She whispered, feeling the blood drizzle down her neck slowly as Cersei pulled the dirk away just as Eliana went to speak once more, "Just like you'd like to think Jaime is yours, sadly, you can't have everything... I wanted everything and look where that got me, my father and brothers are dead, my sisters are missing, my home is in ruins at the hands of turn cloaks..."

"Jaime and I will have something you'll never have," the blonde hissed as her smile widened drastically, "We're more than brother and sister, we are one person in two bodies... we shared a womb together, he came into this world holding my foot." She paused, losing herself in her memories while Eliana stared at her, transfixed at the sudden passion that had been roused from within her when concerning Jaime. "When he's in me,  _inside of me_ , I feel whole."

"What about Lancel? Or did he not have enough bottom?" Eliana let out, a laugh leaving her as she smirked at Cersei who had grown immediately dark and haughty in demeanor. "You're right though: Jaime is a good lover, he's very... vigorous in the heat of the moment, so fervent and frenzied wouldn't you agree?"

Cersei's hand struck her face immediately, taking the wind out of Eliana briefly, causing a chuckle to erupt from within her.

"Hit a nerve did I?"

"What happened between you and Jaime on your little trip down here was nothing, do you understand me?" Cersei grabbed her hair yanking her head towards her, her grip firm but not strong enough to bring Eliana some actual discomfort. "He's mine, and he always will be."

Eliana retrieved her head and laughed again, "Then why did he swear himself to me? Why did he confess his love for me on countless occasions? Why has he not touched you since arriving back in the capital?" She announced, watching as her words etched themselves into Cersei's brain, tainting it as she listened. "... I never asked for his attention, I never desired his love..."

"But he's given it to you!"

Eliana sucked in a breath when the chilled breath of the dirk met her arm, cutting a trail for the blood to follow as she watched it through a lidded gaze. " _Then take it back_ ," She urged her with a sigh, cracking her neck as she ignored the pain at her neck. "I've my husband and son; take back Jaime's love, I'm not going to stop you from doing so..."

"Oh no," Cersei laughed breathlessly as she prodded Eliana's skin with the blade. "You've got your claws in him so deep, he doesn't come near me anymore! He's repulsed by me because of you... all because of you and your infectious ways."

Glancing down, Eliana sighed deeply and clenched her jaw. "I never meant to come between the pair of you, truly..." She spoke quietly, shaking her head as Cersei stepped back, admiring the cuts across her throat and arms. "Jaime's persistence is more than what I had assumed it would be, I can't dissuade him from what he wants..."

"Why?"

Eliana met her gaze immediately and gave a soft shrug of her shoulders, "I pitied him... for being the  _Kingslayer_ , and for the simple fact that no one recognised the good he'd done, that he'd relieved the realm of the madness it could have met... which was one of his finest acts while in the Kingsguard - who else would've taken out Aerys before he'd burned King's Landing?"

"My father had been in the wrong," Eliana stated boldly which intrigued Cersei. "He judged him guilty upon seeing him in the Red Keep when he charged upon the city from the Trident... he didn't see what I saw, if anything, he refused to see the justice he'd dealt the realm. But I saw him at his lowest point, and I think he's found his redemption since his departure from the capital."

Cersei shook her head, "He's not  _my_  Jaime anymore."

"Still," Eliana acknowledged as watched Cersei closely, "He crossed a thousand leagues to return to you, and he lost the best part of him along the way for  _me_  and that is something I'll never be able to repay him for nor did I want him to..." She paused to clear her throat as she adjusted her position to watch Cersei return to her chair. "He's a better man than he once was, he understands honour and accepts his faults..."

 _"_ He told you that?" Cersei questioned slowly, her gaze cautiously falling upon Eliana as she watched her enemy stare sympathetically at her. "He wanted to return to me? Or is that some farce?" She tickled her head, contemplating whether the truth had left her mouth or if believing her was wise.

Eliana hesitated momentarily, knowing it wouldn't be wise to lie to Cersei given she wasn't in a forgiving mood if her newest injuries were anything to go by. "Not in so many words... but I could see it." She witnessed as Cersei's face transitioned through a tremor of emotions all at once. "Each day he was kept prisoner he would speak of returning to you, I heard it and my brother's men also heard - he boasted of your House, of how you couldn't be stopped... he was right in the end, Bolton sought to that when he murdered Robb."

Staring at her silently, Cersei witnessed the tears beginning to swim within her glassy cyan eyes as Eliana looked to the floor, "How did he die exactly?" Cersei pressed unexpectedly, noticing how the Stark girl's eyes hesitantly shifted towards her as the tears remained, hinting at the gradual form of a crack splitting through her soul. "You hear so many tales of how it occurred... how does one know what is the truth?"

Her request caught Eliana off guard completely, making her frown briefly before shuddering at the request whilst an image flickered through her mind, causing a rupture of discomfort to surface within her mind...  _Savagely slaughtered, those who had been feasting lay strewn across dozens of overturned chairs and hacked trestle tables, mangled in pools of congealing blood. Some without limbs, even heads. Lacerated limbs clutched bloody cups, wooden spoons, roast fowl, heels of bread. Upon a throne above them sat a dead man with the head of a wolf, an iron crown resting on his head as he held a leg of lamb in one hand the way a kind might hold a sceptre as his eyes watched her solemnly, his mouth moving but no words coming out..._

" _Well?_ " Cersei persisted.

_A dance of arrows and knives broke out around them mere seconds after the first attack, surrounding them in death as the bannermen fell dead to the obscene attack._

Eliana sucked in a deep breath as she contemplated what happened, recalling every single detail immediately and precisely. "Walder Frey ordered his men to- to fire at us while the bloodshed ripped through our men within the hall," Eliana started, her eyes trailing off as she recalled that day, recalled the numerous deaths that plagued her mind.

" _The King in the North arises_."

"Both Robb and I had been struck with bolts to take us out as had my mother... my brother's wife was already gone as was the babe in womb,  _my niece or nephew._ " Eliana spoke gravely, gritting her teeth as she couldn't bear to recall the memory, the feeling of tears leaking from her eyes. "I don't remember much after I was shot again, but I remember him calling out to my mother, begging her to stop with her pleading..."

_"Mother." Robb rasped, begging her to stop with her worthless pleading. Nothing would help, nor stop his death or the fall of the North._

_And then it all happened so quickly, "The Lannisters send their regards..." Roose Bolton whispered in Robb Stark's ear before plunging the knife into his chest, right through his heart. The blade felt cold, it almost made Robb shiver as his knees buckled and soon he was falling, falling fast..._

"And Bolton delivered the final blow, stabbing my brother to finish the betrayal..." Eliana breathed in disgrace, bowing her head as she strained in her manacles, grinding her teeth. "And then..."

_The King in the North!_

_The King in the North!_

" _And then?_ " Cersei prompted, raising an eyebrow as she took a long gulp of her wine. "Go on."

She jolted back to reality at Cersei's words, however the pounding within her head failed to cease as the chant rang through her mind. "They removed my brother's head from his body to replace it with that of his direwolf's... and then he paraded him about the grounds outside the Twins as the massacre continued around his decimated body."

_The King in the North!_

_The King in the North!_

_His arms had been forced behind his back, positioned and nailed to the post that was at his back keeping it rigid and still as it held up his unbalanced body. Her brother sat butchered atop a horse, being led along by a band of soldiers. As the group marched towards her, Eliana began to drown in her own dread, feeling bile rise within her and making her want to throw up._

_He had no head, he did, but it was not his own._

_There were no auburn curls and no blue eyes, instead where his head should have been, bloodied fur wisped in the breeze. The eyes flashed sadly in the fiery torchlight, glistening in the darkness of the night of terror. The mouth hung open and the tongue swung indolently as the horse was guided through the courtyard._

Glancing up suddenly, Eliana looked at Cersei who appeared to be repulsed by what she'd heard, her gaze sorrowful. "I still wish it had been me, it should have been me... I'd caused half the mess by going rogue in the first place, it would have been better if my hand had been offered to that prick." Eliana announced as Cersei silently observed her, seeing the anger boiling away within her as an angry tear swam over her cheek. "... he would be ashamed for the dishonour brought upon our family... we failed them,  _I failed them_." She let out shakily, remembering her father and how she'd dishonoured the family, tainted their once good name.

_He drew the Valryian steel blade from its sheath, the rasp of metal on leather rung through the crowd, and then he made his way calmly Ned Stark. The man looked once at his daughter, then at the crowd where he found his other child, then at the statue of Baelor. His grey eyes landed on her again, she nodded and he bowed his head and exposed his neck..._

_He lifted the blade over his head, and brought it down in a wide arc. It slid through Ned Stark's neck like a knife through butter, barely even catching a thing when it hit bone._

_He turned and sheathed the blade, then bent down to take a firm hold of Ned Stark's fallen head by the hair, picking it up and holding it high for the crowd to see. He brought it next to Joffrey and knelt, offering it to the King..._

"All we did was for the sake of family, all we wanted was our family and to return home so you could continue your insistent fighting over that blasted chair." She but out, shaking her head as she hung it in shame, her gaze solemn and dark. "All that mattered was family, but any peace was stolen from us when your son had my father's head struck off his shoulders." Eliana glowered at the floor as the memory flashed through her mind, taunting her as she recalled every single detail of the events which occurred that day. "He didn't even want to be Hand but I persuaded him to accept the position for the sake of his friendship with Robert..." She trailed off as her mind wavered off right before Cersei, images plaguing her mind...

* * *

" _Luwin, will you just tell why you're in such a rush?_ " Eliana demanded as she rushed after the old Maester as he hurried down the hallway, a candle lighting his way whilst she jogged after him, wrapping her robe around her waist as her direwolf trailed after, its movement silent.

" _Go back to bed, Lia._ " He instructed, chastising her briefly as they rounded a corner, though she continued to persist after him. " _I must speak with your mother and father, that's all._ "

Eliana nodded, " _Yes, I understand that... but what about? I haven't seen you this panicked since the missive arrived from Bolton with the marriage proposal between myself and his bastard - what's wrong?_ " She questioned worriedly, her brow furrowing as her hand clasped down on his robed forearm.

" _I apologise, Lia._ " Luwin spoke curtly as he glanced at her. " _But this truly concerns your mother and father more than yourself, go back to bed and take your pet with you now._ "

However, despite wanting her to leave, Eliana continued to follow him until they arrived at her parent's chambers where the guards stood frozen outside. Jory was among them, a soft smile creeping onto his face at the sight of Eliana whilst Varly stood silently. " _Maester, my lady... what brings your to Lord Stark's chamber at this late hour?_ "

" _A raven arrived from Lady Stark's sister,_ " Luwin spoke as Eliana's eyes widened at the information. " _It's urgent and she'll want to see it._ "

" _Very well,_ " Jory nodded as he knocked upon the door whilst Luwin sent Eliana a look of annoyance. " _It's Maester Luwin and Eliana, my lord._ " He announced to her parents which made her smirk as Luwin sent Jory an incredulous look until ned's voice rung out through the air.

" _Send them in!_ " He called out as Jory hauled the door open but Luwin remained at the door, staring at the Captain of the Guard.

" _Jory, take Lia back to her chamber, if you would be so kind._ "

Just as Jory was about to do so, Ned interrupted. " _Nonsense, let her in Jory._ "

Eliana's smirk widened still as Luwin pushed past her to get into the room before she was able to. As she entered the room she caught her mother's eye and shrugged as she closed the door behind her whilst Luwin strode into the centre of the room. " _Pardon, my lord, my lady._ " Luwin apologised to the both of them, ignoring Eliana as she moved towards the hearth as her direwolf moved towards her mothers feet despite her disliking of the animal. " _A rider in the night from your sister._ " He handed Catelyn the sealed missive in his hand and then turned to leave, his hand grasping Eliana's arm as he did so.

" _Stay._ " Ned ordered, climbing out of bed properly as stroke the direwolf's head, scratching behind its ear while it whined, licking his hand. " _Both of you._ "

Ripping open the missive, Catelyn's brown furrowed as she read the words thoroughly before slowly speaking. " _This was sent from the Eyrie,_ " She stated as her brow continued to deepen in anxiousness. " _What's she doing at the Eyrie? She hasn't been back there since her wedding..._ " Continuing to read the note, she suddenly looked up in alarm and immediately threw the missive into the flaming embers of the hearth as she met her daughter's gaze once again.

" _What news?_ " Eliana and Ned spoke together in unison, worry plaguing their minds as they watched her carefully.

Catelyn turned to face them, looking rather shaken and panicked in that moment. " _She's fled the capital,_ " She replied, her eyes wide and full of hysteria. " _She says Jon Arryn was murdered... by the Lannisters, she says the King is in danger._ "

Eliana frowned, scratching her in confusion as she registered her aunt's words carefully. " _Lysa said that?_ " She asked, not fully understanding what was going on. " _Is she insinuating Jon was poisoned by them? The fever was fast acting... the Tears of Lys or another poison like Widow's Blood, perhaps?_ "

" _Enough, Lia._ " Ned rolled his eyes at his daughter, also finding it hard to believe Lysa's words, but far more worried by Eliana's sudden vast knowledge of poisons due to her visit in Dorne... and gods knows what she learned in the Reach. " _She's fresh widowed, Cat... she doesn't know what she's saying, she's grieving._ "

Much like her daughter, Catelyn knew the Lannisters were behind Jon Arryn's death, and fully believed her sister's words. " _Lysa's head would be on a spike right now if the wrong people had found that missive, what do you think would've happened to her if it hadn't arrived?_ " Catelyn persisted angrily, moving towards Ned and Eliana who stood watching her quietly. " _Do you think she would risk her life, her son's life, if she wasn't certain her husband was murdered?_ " She questioned harshly, her hand grasping her daughter's as she nodded at her mother's words.

" _I wouldn't put it past them,_ " Eliana spoke in agreement, her own brow furrowing deeply as she though. " _They're a power hungry house - it makes sense, doesn't it? They want anyone who would cause problems for them,_  for Tywin, _out of the way._ " Her voice was steady and certain; she believed her aunt's words as well. " _Robert may be next._ "

Luwin also nodded in agreement, " _If this news is true, and the Lannister's are conspiring against the throne... then who but you can protect the King?_ " Luwin proposed the question Ned had been dreading from the missive's onslaught.

Immediately, Eliana spoke up. " _I'll help,_ " She vowed, her mind set and decided. " _In any way possible; I will help protect Robert._ "

But Catelyn disagreed with the idea of her putting herself in danger, " _No you will not,_ " She scolded her harshly, her gaze firm but furious. " _They murdered the last Hand, and now you want Ned to take the job? And our eldest is more than willing to offer to help protect that drunken oaf..._ " Her voice faded as she attempted to argue with the Maester.

Clasping his hands together, and sighed deeply. " _The King rode for a month to request Lord Stark's help... he's the only one he trusts, the only one whose trust he values._ " Luwin confirmed to all their worry, the truth was unmistakable. " _You swore an oath, my lord._ "

The reminder made Ned feel ill.

Catelyn would have none of it; she wouldn't lost her husband to that overweight King and neither would she lose her daughter. " _He's spent half of his life fighting Robert's blasted war, he owes him nothing!_ " Her voice gradually rose with rage and utter insecurity as she turned to face Ned, her hand grasping Eliana's more firmly as she reached for Ned's hand and took it into her own, wanting them both close to her. " _Your father and brother rode south once at the demand of a King._ "  _And they never came back_.

Sighing, Eliana glanced between her mother and father, feeling the tension rising with the walls of their chambers and she couldn't help but feel that her father could aid Robert and protect him from those who sought to harm him."

" _A different time. A different king._ "

Her own words echoed through her mind as the images shifted to blur her mind's eye...

" _What is the meaning of this? Where is my son!_ " He demanded with a howl.

Sitting upon his throne, Aerys tilted his head and gestured to the Red Keep. " _Right here..._ " He announced, which only added to Rickard's confused and fuelled the truth and belief that Aerys had indeed gone mad.

" _Don't play games with me._ " Rickard strode towards him, ignoring his remaining Kingsguard that lurked in the rays of the sun. " _What is he supposed to have done, Your Grace?_ "

His words made Aerys fly from his throne, hissing at the man before him. " _He's been conspiring to murder my heir and myself!_ " He seethed, bearing his teeth at the man below him, as if ready to truly take flight.

Rickard shook his head, refusing to believe such nonsense that was falling from that mad man's mouth. " _Brandon would do no such thing, Your Grace, he is fearful for my daughter, his sister - that is all._ " He pleaded with the man, knowing that his mind was lost and that the fool could do anything he wished because he was king, despite having gone mad.

The king, however, didn't look convinced by his words as his eyes narrowed on Rickard. The man was wearing armour, and for a reason Aerys knew. " _Why are you donned in armour, Lord Rickard... did you expect a fight?_ " Aerys noted as he raised an eyebrow in Rickard's direction, leaning forward in his seat to continue inspecting him from afar.

Shaking his head once again, Rickard gritted his teeth as he felt his patience wearing tirelessly thin. " _No, of course not, Your Grace._ " Rickard vowed with a slight bow of his head before he took a deep breath and another step forward. " _You say you want me to ransom you for my son's crime, what does this require?_ "

" _Your death... only death can pay for life..._ " Aerys grinned once more. " _I can't put my trust or faith in traitors._ "

He'd known all along of what Aerys had required, Rickard was not a stupid man and he was not a weak man either. " _I demand a trail combat if you wish me dead, I will die on my own terms._ " He announced, proudly, not caring if those around him sniggered. Any northerner would do the same, they would die fighting.

" _Very well._ " Aerys nodded.

Suddenly, Rickard was grabbed from behind, being dragged backwards. "What?! What is the meaning of this?" Rickard exclaimed in outrage as rope was strung around his body, before he was hauled into the air so he was dangling helplessly from the rafters of the throne room as he stared with a panicked gaze at the Pyromancers below him.

Reaching into the air, the verdant hands tried to grasp Rickard's leg, missing by a short distance as they continued to climb in the air, writhing, crackling and spitting.

" _Fire will be my champion, Lord Rickard!_ " Aerys declared, waving his hand while he laughed in triumph. " _Let's see how you fare._ "

The scene flickered across the country suddenly, transpiring in the midst of a river to a rider and his horse as it whinnied...

Collapsing upon all fours, charging, as the water exploded around the horses hooves that sung like war drums echoing through the night, nearing war with the tornado of all consuming fire billowing around him.

Robert lurked before him, side-stepping the horse and bashing his hammer into its sternum with a sudden sheer force of brute strength. Screaming as it fell, the horse staggered, and Rhaegar lept from the horse before the water engulfed his horse. Rising to his feet, Rhaegar stood before Robert, his hand clutching his sword of burning metal, glaring under the light of the sun.

Hammer raised to the height of his great helm, Robert started forwards determinedly, sweat beading upon his face like the water that had swallowed Rhaegar's horse - he was going to slaughter Rhaegar where he stood, like the horse Robert had felled only moments ago with one swing of his war hammer. Dodging a blow, Rhaegar sent his blade slicing into the vulnerable flesh at Robert's shoulder.

Inhaling sharply, Robert lurched sideways, his hammer slipping through his fingers as he crumbled in the direction of the water until he managed to regain himself, straightening, standing tall once more.

Robert shifted the weight of his hammer onto his good arm, awaiting Rhaegar's attack and he thoughts. He'd never been much of a servant... he was meant for glory in battle, and the day to prove himself was that day, to prove the stag was more valiant than any of the dragons. Rhaegar, however, didn't assail him like Robert would've predicted. Instead he paused to circle around Robert, gradual circles around the stag as if he meant to devour him, his indigo eyes piercing him like the sword within his clenched fists. Rhaegar's indigo eyes assessed him, and Robert was certain that Rhaegar's mind was lazily mapping his weaknesses along with his flaws and his feeble stature.

Once more, Robert lashed out at him again but Rhaegar easily evaded Robert's hammer, which plunged through the water.

Robert lifted it and swung.

Rhaegar stumbled back.

Seeing his chance, Robert maneuvered his hammer straight up into the air and it came crashing down in an brutal arc, right into Rhaegar's breastplate. Rhaegar fell immediately, and Robert grinned at the sight of the falling dragon.

_Dragon aren't as invincible as they all say._

But the dragon rose again, and he then moved to thrust his blade forward, and Robert's hammer knocked it aside whilst Rhaegar continued his offense, slamming iron-clad knuckles against Robert's great helm. Loosing his footing, Robert staggered upon the uneven ground below the water's shallow depths.

Rhaegar raised his sword once more.

Robert, who had crouched beneath a vertical swing, knew his moment had come again. Robert rose, quicker than Rhaegar's elbow could follow his sword, and Robert's hammer followed his leap and flew right into Rhaegar's chest.

The armour was dented upon the impact given off by the war hammer, a loud clattering sound shattered the silence that had fallen over the Trident as the battle waged on around them.

Rhaegar was spluttering, his hands clawing his chest as he staggered but Robert didn't allow him to die agony without witnessing the sun light upon his skin and so in one swift movement, he tore his helm from his face. Rhaegar fell, the rubies scattering to the water's depth as he continued to splutter. His face was writhing in agony, his breaths growing shallow but his face remained stern, of unyielding valour which Robert detested more than anything, so he ripped off his own helm and tossed it aside.

Staring down Rhaegar, he knelt until he met the shallow water before he fist snaked around Rhaegar's throat, giving the slight mercy of drowning him. A soft gurgle of desperate bubbles sprouted from his mouth as his silvery hair floated heavenly around his face whilst Robert couldn't wipe the victory from the snide that crept across his unrepentant mouth at the sight of the crowned prince, Rhaegar Targaryen, at his merciful grip.

 _Drowned by his own rubies_ ,  _the fool, they're too pretty to wear... any woman would've told him the same, pretty man._

* * *

Jolting back to reality, Eliana blinked several times to prevent the memories from shrouding her mind enough as they already were, her eyes falling upon Cersei who was staring wide-eyed at her, her mouth slightly agape as she sat there silently. "Where did you disappear... your eyes, they went odd for a second, white." Cersei commented as Eliana slowly focused upon her properly.

"I saw what once was," Eliana explained quietly, clearing her throat as Cersei's brow deepened it confusion. "And what had receded into the past as a mere memory... occurrences many wish to forget as if they believe they'll be spared of their pain; they won't... The fall of Rhaegar at the hands of Robert."

"That happened twenty years ago," Cersei spoke in perplexity, sitting forward suddenly as she studied Eliana closely, "You were but a babe, how could have you seen such as thing?"

"How did I see my grandfather and uncle die, King's Aerys's demise at the hand of your brother, your encounter with Maggy..." Eliana sighed deeply, smiling lazily as she watched Cersei with a bemused smile. "The answer is the same, it will never change..."

However, Eliana was unable to finish as she was immediately interrupted by Cersei as she rose, her hand seizing the knife laid beside her upon the table. "How do you know about that frog? I was ten years at the time... how do you know about this?" She whispered, coming to stand right before Eliana as she peered up at her, her eyes narrowed. " _How?!_ "

Tilting her head at Cersei, Eliana's smirk grew at the sight of her panicking at the mere mention of her past. "You're frightened; just look at you, it's quite amusing to witness if I do admit to myself, seeing your skin crawl at the memory you had tried so desperately to banish from your thoughts... it all comes back to us in the end, no matter how much we try to avoid it."

Turning around abruptly, Cersei's eyes scanned the room as she tried to find another weapon to use to her advantage that would wound Eliana. Gradually, her eyes landed upon a burning wax candle as it flickered upon the table. A smirk appeared as she took the object into her hand, stirring it as she saw the pool of burning wax swimming in the bottom,  _perfect_. "Tell me."

Grinning like a wolf, Eliana watched the candle as her interest became piqued by her movements. "Or you'll what? You'll drip hot wax onto my skin... is that the best you could come up with? Hot wax?" She questioned as she attempted to stifle a yawn whilst she tried to stretch her arms despite being tied up. "Burn away my sins."

"Have it your way." Cersei nodded to the Ser Meryn who had been stood silently behind Eliana and out of her view. Grasping her tunic, Meryn gave a swift tug and the material tore into, revealing her torso to Cersei as the Lannister's verdant eyes immediately found the scar that had ruptured her skin, snaking down her body to disappear below her beeches.

"Ugly isn't it?" Eliana commented as she followed Cersei's wandering gaze, her brow furrowed as the blonde stared at her silently. "It's a memento that your brother seemed to like, he was very fond of it if I recall..." Eliana breathed as she smiled slowly once more, not able to reign herself in. "couldn't keep his mouth of it."

Immediately her gaze darkened and she moved closer towards Eliana, raising the candle as the liquefied wax swam over the walls of the candle's edge and made contact with her chest, a faint sizzling sound dispersing as it did so. Wincing, Eliana let out a shallow breath as she felt the stinging sensation sink into her skin, rushing through the crevices to trail across her snowy covering like a snail might weave through a garden.

"Tell me what you know of Maggy."

"Why?" She frowned, her brow twitched as she desperately fought the need to itch the burn sensation stretching across her chest, her eyes glued to Cersei as she placed the candle down to take the knife back into her hand. "Why do you want to know of something you've already heard?"

Unable to retain her calm demeanor, Cersei's patience ruptured as she blew up in the face of her enemy. "I am  _the_  Queen!" She exclaimed, shaking the knife as she started forwards, the knife making jagged cuts and swipes through the air as she bared her teeth. "And you  _will_  answer to me."

"Aye, you are..." Eliana nodded in acknowledgement, her eyes pitiful as she regarded Cersei curiously, recalling the encounter Cersei once had that had viciously stolen her sleep many nights ago. " _Until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take everything you hold dear_...  _that is until your tears have drowned you, that the valonqar will wrap his hands about your pale throat and choke the life from you_."

Eyes widening, Cersei's breath hitched in her throat at Eliana's words before she brought the blade down across her neck with a sharp hiss. "It was you wasn't it? You're the valonqar." Cersei whispered, her eyes shining as the blood leaked from the confines of Eliana's skin, her jaw clenching as she rose an eyebrow in question. "You killed him,  _my son._ "

Rolling her eyes, Eliana fidgeted slightly as she adjusted her position to feel more comfortable to being tied up against her will.  _Of course I did, but Cersei doesn't necessarily need to know the honestly in that statement just quite yet..._ " _Oh_ , how I've missed this - being tied up always excited me,  _how did you know?_ " Eliana smiled falsely, cracking her neck as Cersei's face contorted in fury at her words.

"Shut your cunt mouth, whore." snapped Cersei, her palm flying across her cheek, silencing Eliana momentarily from the shock of the action, causing her eyes to water at the sensation.

Regaining her thought process, Eliana stared at her with a faint smile at her nerve to persist at what she believed to be true. "That will be doubtful I'm afraid... I can't help myself, you see. I like my mouth and the words that often leave it, it makes my life far more exciting." She paused briefly, blinking away the tears to prevent them from falling from her bottom lash. "You were saying?"

Lip quaking in rage, Cersei growled. "You murdered my son."

Scoffing, Eliana closed her eyes and let out a low sigh of disbelief. "You think I killed Joffrey? Really? Is that what this is all about?" She announced in annoyance, her eyes forming a dark glare as she watched her with a hardened gaze like valyrian steel. "I'm disappointed."

Unexpectedly, soft laughter echoed through the room whilst Cersei began to laugh crazily, her eyes maddened as she observed Eliana who returned her gaze with shallow intrigue. "You hated him, and you made it quite clear..." She murmured low enough for her to hear, her voice growing dangerously low in that moment which didn't fail to cause the stirrings of excitement within the pit of Eliana's stomach at the feeling it left behind.

"And that means what? That I wanted to kill him?!" Suddenly it dawned upon Eliana, the retribution Cersei hoped to seek by hurting, the pain she hoped to bring upon that worried her to her core.  _She wanted vengeance, vengeance she chose in the form of trying to murder Alaric..._ "Is... is that why you tried to murder my son? You hoped by doing so, you'd achieve what? That he'd take away your pain? That he'd return Joffrey to you?" Eliana questioned, her anger becoming evidently clear in that exact moment, causing Cersei to step back in worry as Eliana surged forward, her teeth gritted together in discomfort of how low she would sink to deliver the payback she thought she needed to convey. "I didn't kill him, Cersei... as much as I hated him, I didn't have any hand in his death."

Her eyebrow inched higher upon her forehead.

"Have you not considered other enemies in this capital apart from me? The Tyrells, maybe?" She asked slowly as Cersei's brow lifted at her gradual words, some sense making its way through her mind. "It makes sense; you've given them power, and they'll hunger for more...  _me_ , I want nothing more than to return to my home."

Cersei had to admit to herself that it made sense for the Tyrells to pull a stunt such as that... but Starks, they were her family's enemies - they always had been and always would be, so it was natural to blame them... but the Tyrells had gained so much power recently that it seemed that perhaps she'd jumped to the wrong conclusion because of her hatred towards the bitch that had stolen her brother from her. But it made sense, but would she believe it fully... was to be decided. "You always hated him." Cersei stated whilst Eliana nodded in agreement, seeing not point in disagreeing with the statement.

"But that doesn't mean I'd kill him... I may be a monster, but to kill at a wedding?" Eliana pressed, imploring Cersei to heed her words, to try to believe she was telling her the truth, for her to listen to what she was saying. "I regret to inform you that you've got the wrong person; it wasn't me, as much as you'd like to force the blame onto me... I had no hand in it."

Falling silent, Cersei slunk back towards her chair with a soft sigh, the knife settling upon the table once more before she looked past Eliana. "Ser Meryn, leave us and guard the door." The Kingsguard nodded curtly and immediately strode towards the door with a darkened expression evident upon his face. "And don't let anyone inside. Let no one past."

Eliana glanced over at the Kingsguard, and she couldn't deny the panic that arose within her head at Cersei's words... her mind racing through the possibilities of what she would want to do to her.

Once Meryn had left the room, she glanced back over to Cersei to find her gaze fixed upon, unwavering as she stared at her with quiet fury raging through her mind at the Stark she'd tied up against her will - a caged animal she would do anything to tame, do anything to destroy but what Cersei didn't expect to hear was what she uttered next.

Her head bowed, Eliana let out a deep, shaky sigh before she looked up once more with a sheen of tears having collected in her eyes. "... You're not a bad person, Cersei." She asserted honestly, noticing the similarities between herself and the Lannister, what fuelled their beliefs and their motivations and that they truly weren't that different from one another.

Frowning in confused at what she meant, Cersei sat forward as she took her wine securely into her hand. "How would you know?" She murmured whilst a smirk crept across her lips as Eliana licked her lips and looked away briefly.

"Because we're alike you and I, both fighting to bring a difference; both striving to bring some good."

Cersei remained unconvinced by what she meant, but kept her attention upon her fully, her gaze never leaving her as she stood there unable to flee. "For what reason do you believe that shit?" Cersei growled softly as Eliana stared at her, a small smile gracing her features as she looked at the chains holding her in place.

"For our families."

There was no hesitation in her gaze as she watched Eliana closely, noticing that there was odd evidence of sincerity in her icy glance as she shifted upon her feet, taking in a deep breath before requesting something costly and potentially problematic on Cersei's behalf.

"Now... would you let me out of these blasted manacles so we can talk properly?"


	58. Fallout

Deep into his brooding, Oberyn hadn't heard the door open and neither had he registered someone walking into the room, it wasn't until the person stopped abruptly once Oberyn glanced over in the direction of the door to find himself charging over to the intruder in a wave of fury. "You took your bloody time..." He hissed, grabbing Jaime as he pulled him roughly inside the room.

Eyes widening in realisation, Jaime closed in his eyes in defeat at having rushed all the way to the Maidenvault at the belief it had been Eliana who had requested to see, not her husband. "Ah," Jaime breathed, his hand going to immediately scratch the back of his head as he lingered at the door hesitantly. "It was you... I thought- never mind, I'll leave you be- "

The Viper's hand enclosed around his throat as he forced him against the door he'd just entered, continuing to hiss at Jaime whilst he clawed at his through with his remaining hand, staring into those onyx eyes that terrified him still. "Why don't you come in for a cup of wine, Ser? I feel it's highly unfair of a man in the Kingsguard to be deprived of the beverage." Oberyn whispered, his breath hot against Jaime's face as he studied him closely. "Wouldn't you agree, Ser?"

Jaime shuddered, "I shouldn't- "

Removing his hand from his throat, Oberyn sighed deeply and ran a hand across his brow. "I insist, the wine I brought with me is much better than the rubbish they serve here... And besides, I wish to speak with you." Oberyn informed him which only made Jaime panic further at whatever Oberyn wished to tell him... the endless possibilities. "If I were you, I wouldn't pass it up either."

Jaime thought on it for a moment, in theory, he deduced it as a very bad idea in the particular circumstance he'd stumbled upon. But in all its fairness, a cup of fine Dornish sounded damn good in that moment, especially after the man had just attempted to strangle him. "When you put it that way, refusing seems inevitable... I'll have it." He agreed as Oberyn's smirk widened significantly.

"Come in then. Make yourself comfortable, Ser."

Stepping forward tentatively, Jaime wandered into the room to see it oddly empty with very little possessions left so scarcely about anymore... they were set to leave and soon, and without him unless he hurried and declaimed his undying loyalty to the woman he'd so foolishly fallen for. Grabbing the first chair he could get to, Jaime immediately sunk into it as Oberyn strolled into the room.

He nodded in thanks when he was handed a half-filled up of Dornish red. Taking a sip, he said nothing but admired the taste upon his tongue.  _Good wine_ , he thought despite it being a little on the stronger side, but it taste sweet enough and it wasn't the bad brew that usually burned in the back of his throat because it was so cheap. Instead, it was warm and he licked his lips once he'd finished with the cup.

When he raised his gaze, the Viper was staring at him from the other side of the table they were sitting at. Jaime swallowed deeply, not entirely sure if he was at ease with those onyx eyes boring into his own.  _You should go now_ ,  _go now_. "My lord, thank you. I will- "

"Not so fast," Oberyn interrupted with a narrowed gaze which made Jaime retake his seat immediately, "Surely you'll want another cup, no? And besides, my lord,  _it's prince_ , I'm a prince of Dorne after all." He informed him shortly as Jaime watched him with a wide gaze, not sure how to reply to his sharp tongue.

"I shouldn't impose," He knew how it sounded, but he desperately wanted to leave lest start a dispute he'd rather not have to face at that particular moment, and especially with Oberyn Martell of all people despite the love he held for his wife.

Scoffing, Oberyn smirked once more as he rose from his chair to get the pitcher of wine that sat away from them. "Nonsense; you're my guest, and you seem to have good taste for this, which is good, I've enough to last me for a long while." He drawled as he refilled the glasses smoothly.

 _Gods, I shouldn't have anymore_... he knew it would've been wiser to refuse his offer but the wine was rather good, and he'd rather not have to face the wrath of his sister as she continuously persisted to anger him. "Then – if you'll be so kind, I would have a refill." Once the cup was back in his good hand, he nursed it slowly, tasting the wine and making it last - he also didn't want it to go to his either, and that would be the exact outcome if he drunk it all at once.

He didn't know whether he liked the sudden silence that fell between them as the Viper sat drinking his own wine as if it were water...  _where was Lia to save him from her husband that wanted nothing more than to murder him..._ Momentarily he felt the dark eyes staring at him with interest, and he tried his best to not fiddle or fidget in his seat. It'd be ridiculous to see, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard cowering under the gaze of the Red Viper of Dorne... but then again the man sat before him could probably make any given person feel apprehensive with merely half a glance in their direction.

When he had finally finished his cup, he placed it down upon the table before he drew in a deep breath. "My prince, thank you for the drink... but I'll go back to- " However, as Jaime rose from his chair to escape the confines of the chamber, the Viper's hand enclosed around his wrist, keeping him in his place.

"Not so fast, Ser Jaime," Oberyn called to him as the Lion looked over at him slowly, his gaze weary. "... I've asked you here and here you shall stay until I tell you otherwise."

Clearing his throat, Jaime pulled his wrist free with a slight struggle. "I beg your pardon?"

Rising to his feet, Oberyn downed the remains of his wine and placed his glass upon the table calmly despite the rage he felt bubbling away within his veins as he turned to look upon Jaime fully. Gritting his teeth, he ground out. "You fucked her." He announced abruptly which caused Jaime's breath to hitch in his throat, causing him to remain silent as Oberyn clenched his fists tightly. "And you want to fuck her still, to feel her lips around your cock. To touch her, to pleasure her with all you have... And what you lack..."

Scoffing, Jaime laughed aloud at Oberyn's accusations as the Viper circled him slowly, his gaze never leaving him as he did which instantly caused Jaime's worry to rise in anticipation "You'd waste my time to discuss this? Of all things?" He demanded, following the Dornishman as he prowled around him  _like the Lion should_.

"Why not?" Oberyn questioned harshly, pausing in his prowling to meet Jaime's gaze immediately, stepping towards him. "Whenever she is about, you gawk over her like a piece of meat, dribbling over what is not yours... your family already took my sister from me, you will not have her too."

"Where my eyes are is no concern of yours, my prince." Jaime told Oberyn, attempting to brush off the accusation simply, not needing another dispute to take the life out of him. "I have a duty."

"And how well would you carry it out, if you're busy staring at my wife?"

His face paled suddenly at Oberyn's assessment, meaning he must have been watching him like a hawk unknowingly for a long while to notice how often Eliana stole his attention when he should have been paying attention elsewhere. "I don't- "

Sighing, Oberyn pulled off his tunic and chucked it onto the chair he'd been sitting in and turning to face Jaime swiftly, folding his arms over his chest as he evaluated the man before him. "There's no point denying it... No bother in trying to contemplate a cover for your attraction, but I must say you have impeccable taste." He asserted with a small smirk, his lips twitching upwards in bemusement at Jaime's reaction to his words, the surprise lacing his features along with the subtle confusion.

" _Impeccable taste?_ " He repeated cautiously, not fully understanding what was meant by Oberyn's words.

Grinning, Oberyn nodded at Jaime before slapping his breastplate, meeting his own reflection as he did so, grinning at the reflection. "Oh, enough with the pretending of not knowing what I'm talking about, Lannister." He laughed, confusing Jaime completely in that moment: he didn't know how to react nor did he know how to approach the situation when Oberyn was reacting in such a way.

Shaking his head in perplexity, Jaime stare dumbfounded at Oberyn as he waited for the next words to leave his mouth, as he awaited for the fist to meet his jaw, a knife to enter his neck...  _anything_. "I'm afraid- I'm afraid I don't..." It would be wise run, he shouldn't be here, it wasn't – he doesn't understand what his problem was. He'd been discreet about it and hadn't pursued Eliana like he had done... he'd left her alone.

Oberyn shrugged, checking his teeth in the reflection of the breastplate as he stood to his full height, his eyes grinning instead of his lips. "Sometimes I know she'd rather look at you." He spoke quietly which startled Jaime, the deduction having caught him off guard just as Oberyn had suspected it would before he'd said it.

" _At me?_ " Jaime repeated slowly, stepping away from Oberyn as he couldn't help but become flustered at the revelation he'd been dealt with.

Nodding, the Viper laughed aloud at Jaime, a small appearing across his face as he did so. "You're a pleasant sight, pleasing to the eye..." He gestured towards him with his hand, a smirk pulling faintly upon his lips whilst he ran hand through his hair. " _Her eye._ "

Upon hearing his words, Jaime turned in the direction of the door and wanted nothing more than to flee from this torment where Oberyn would flaunt his claim over the woman he loved. "I think it's best if I leave..." He begun, backing towards the door until the glass that had been Oberyn's flew past his head to rattle against the wooden door and shatter upon hitting the floor.

"I've required your service; you'll stay." His words rung through Jaime's mind and he knew he wouldn't dare defy his orders if Oberyn was proving to be just as temperamental as his sister was. Oberyn noticed, and sunk back into the chair, crossing his legs as he reclined into its body. "Do you know my family's words, Ser?"

Turning back around slowly, Jaime swallowed hard but nodded stiffly. "Unbowed. Unbent. Unbroken." Jaime announced steadily, his voice firm and certain as he spoke, each word punctuated perfectly and with the precision that pleased Oberyn enough to cause another smirk to appear at the corners of his mouth.

"A promise to our enemies and a challenge to our lovers..." Oberyn proposed in amusement as Jaime stared at him, his eyes never leaving his own as he neared the Dornishman once more, his intrigue successfully piqued by his words. "A challenge to you."

Jaime found himself to be wordless at that - he had tried to prevent his growing feelings, honestly, but he then felt a certain dread take hold of him... "I don't know -"

"I know you have come to love her greatly; I'm not stupid enough to miss it, Ser." Oberyn began slowly as he shifted upon his feet and started to wander around the room, his irritation growing significantly. "I've seen the admiration; the devotion; the affection... your love for her is genuine, that much I know." He paused briefly as he stroked his bearded chin thoughtfully. "And a part of her loves you too, I just don't know how prominent that part is..."

Once more, Jaime was forced into silence due to Oberyn's sudden declaration.

"If I were my wife, I'd rather look at you." Oberyn added with a small smirk, his eyes trailing over to the Lion.

 _Oh Gods..._  This can't be happening. But there are dark eyes staring into his and gods, he's not japing.  _Not at all._

"You're a pleasant sight, just as I said." Oberyn repeated, reaching to pour himself another cup of wine from the pitcher as his eyes watched Jaime closely. "You pledged your sword to her did you not?" He questioned causing Jaime's eyes to widen at the knowledge.

Clearing his throat, Jaime nodded in agreement. "I did."

"So, you've sworn yourself to her..." Oberyn contemplated as he continued to regard to Jaime with a lidded gaze. "Did you pledge your heart as well, Ser? I should imagine you did..."

Jaime nodded once more and Oberyn smiled. "I did, but there is no one I would rather pledge it to..." He spoke in a lower voice, almost ashamed of himself to admit such a thing. "I, myself, have become a better person by being with her... I feel as if I've atoned my sins because of her." Jaime emphasised, a small smile spreading across his lips as he realised how different he'd become. "Yes, I gave her my heart and my sword because there is no one else I would rather give it to than her."

Despite his declaration for loving his wife, Oberyn remained stoic over his self-control yet rather amused-looking at Jaime's words. "Very poetic, Ser." He drawled out and he downed the lasts of his wine.

"You said she loved me?" Jaime asked in caution, tilting his head in the direction of the Dornishman. "Did she tell you that? Or is that what you believe... is that what you think?"

"I've been with enough women over the years to know when one loves another man as well as myself," Oberyn asserted as Jaime watched him, gritting his teeth as he scratched his brow. "I believe it."

"I'm so sorry." Jaime apologised, the shame filling him as he knew he's stolen Oberyn's wife from him if she loved him as well as himself. "I never meant to take her from you, that was the least of what I expected to happen..."

Oberyn went to reply, to tell Jaime that he didn't wish any animosity towards the man but before he was able, the door to the solar was flung open by none other than Obara who was being led by his wife's direwolf, whilst she carried his son securely in her arm as he babbled away. "Father! Father..." She shouted, her face reddened with panic as were her eyes.

Placing down his cup immediately, Oberyn strode towards his daughter, his concern growing at the sight of her panicked her expression. "What's the matter, Obara?" She didn't reply because she was so busy trying to soothe Alaric before he burst out into tears, rocking him gently rather than answering her father. Worrying further, Oberyn sighed. "Obara, you need to calm down..."

The girl nodded in agreement but her expression refused to shift from its panicked state.

"Right," Oberyn begun, his eyes staring as the direwolf neared Jaime and merely sniffed him before licking his gilded hand in a non-threatened greeting. "What is the matter, little snake?"

Obara sighed deeply as Oberyn took Alaric from her, rocking his son whilst his eyes carefully studied her. "It's Lia." She finally announced, catching her breath but her father's worry only grew at the reasoning for her sudden and unannounced arrival.

His gaze narrowed, " _Lia?_ What about her, little one?" He pressed but Obara shrugged and shifted upon her feet, struggling with how to approach the matter without sending her father into further panic by saying what she feared most. "What has happened to Lia that worries you so?"

"She's gone."

The statement confused Oberyn as he tried to comprehend what he was hearing from his eldest, "What do you mean  _she's gone_ , Obara? Where's Lia?"

"She's gone, she never came back after leaving the room... she told me to stay there with Alaric but she never came back." Obara explained as Oberyn's fears came true in that sudden moment. His wife was missing. "She said she would come back, but she never did... There's blood on the floor outside my room as well but I came to find you straight away - Ric was crying and I didn't know what to do, I- I- "

Oberyn took his son from Obara, pressing a kiss to his forehead before handing him to Jaime. "Obara, you did nothing wrong... I am proud of you for thinking fast on your feet." He pressed a swift kiss to her head before looking at Jaime and addressing him once more. "Take him to Catelyn but don't mention anything- "

Outraged, Jaime cut off the Dornish prince as he tightly held the infant in his arms. "She's her mother, she deserves to know." He argued, stepping towards Oberyn in vexation at his idiocy. "You cannot keep this from her; she'll want to know... she deserves to her as her mother! If you will not tell her, I will."

Clenching his fists, Oberyn slammed his hands down upon the table nearest to him. "She is my good-mother, Ser, not yours! I do not wish to worry her more than necessary, just do as I've told you. Take my son to his grandmother, please, I will not ask again." Oberyn warned darkly, briefly glancing at the man before turning back to his daughter. "Obara, show me the blood that has worried you so."

His worry becoming him, Jaime called out once more as Oberyn moved towards the door. "What if Catelyn questions me, Oberyn? What do I tell her?" He questioned as his anxiousness grew which did little to settle the hysteria brewing within the pits of his stomach.

Without looking back at him, Oberyn's voice soon reached his ears. "You're a clever man, Ser; you'll think of something." However, Jaime wasn't as convinced.

* * *

It was all she has left of him... she heard him but never saw him.  _Never_... she never sees him anymore. She hated the place but even when she would venture to the Godswood, she always felt Ned's presence with her even though he was gone... she felt him with her. She always prayed for those she had lost, of course - for her father and Ned, also Brandon and Rickard and for the sister they'd been unable to save. For her son and his wife... for her unborn grandchild... to all those whom they had been unable to save. She prayed, too, for those who remained to her. Ned's brother Benjen whom she'd heard nothing from; it was the noble thing to do but he was elsewhere and nowhere.

Catelyn prayed for the health of her children, for Bran and Rickon; her two boys she wanted nothing more than to kiss and to hug, to never let them go again, to tell them how much she loved them... how much she missed them. To her daughters; for Arya wherever she was and the longing she felt to hold her in her arms once more; for Sansa who had been whisked away from her so shortly after having been reunited with her... and to Eliana; the one who had remained with her for longer than she thought true despite all the upheaval that had been thrown their way. And for her husband, the Viper who had enraptured her daughter so - who captured her heart so simply and who had given her grandson to cherish...  _Alaric_.

She prayed for the well-being of the son she couldn't love as she should have, the son she'd imagined to have been hers... for the love she should have showered Jon with, the love he deserved but had never gotten.  _Please let him forgive me if we are to ever meet again... please..._

How she'd wished that memory of the day he's return to her hadn't been true, how she wished it had been a figment of her imagination and Jon had been her son, a true born son... not a bastard with no name. How many times she'd imagined it, imagined him saying the words that would craft her relief and make her love to child, like her son... one of her own.

" _He's not mine..._ " She'd imagined him saying under his breath.

She would be sat working at her embroidery, adding direwolves, whilst Ned was going over the construction for the new Sept he was planning to build for her in secret. Looking up, she would've paused in puzzlement, that familiar crease forming between her brows as she faltered at her task. " _What are you talking about Ned?_ "

Ned, in that moment, would've placed his undying trust in her... to put an end to the gaping hole left by Jon, his bastard, his son. He would've decided she deserved to know the truth rather than being left to think he'd been unfaithful to her and had loved another. " _Jon... he's not my son._ "

She would've been joyous to hear his confessions at first, but then a flash of emotion would cross her face... until it settled upon anger. The fury of his deceit. She knew she would've given him a scathing look that would make him look away... so full of anger and what she would have imagined to be hate.

" _Then who Ned?_ " Catelyn would hear herself asking in outrage at having been lied to, at having thought Jon had been his. " _Who is Jon's father?_ "

Catelyn had imagined it many a time, but it was a fantasy that she would've preferred to the reality she'd been faced with when he brought that babe back home with him once Robert's Rebellion was done... the babe that had stolen the love of her daughter and the soon-to-be love of her son also. But she'd always found it strange, strange enough to question it in her mind, strange enough to consider the motives behind it... the reasoning for the unpredictable nature of her husband.

" _She made me promise, Cat, made me promise no to tell another soul._ " Ned would say, his voice solemn and stern as the words met her ears, they would become too much for him. " _I had to protect him Cat, she was my blood as is he... I know I should not have lied about who he was, should not have said that he was mine, but I had to. I promised her, Cat. I gave her my words that I would protect him._ " Ned would beg, his eyes growing sincere as he would grovel for her to believe him. " _Please, if someone must pay for my life, let it be me. Jon is all that remains of her... he's innocent, don't punish him for my mistakes._ "

Her anger would remain at his words, her irritation would increase as she begged him to stop speaking in riddles. " _Ned, who is Jon's father?_ "

" _Rhaegar Targaryen._ "

How she had wished for it to be true... for what she wished most in the world, for Jon to be something other than her husband's bastard son. To give him the love she could manage, the love he deserved... rather than the neglect he'd received. For him to be-

"They always look so mournful," a gentle voice called out to her, startling her free abruptly from her thoughts.

Turning, Catelyn saw that it was Margaery Tyrell, her beauty and grace still befalling her whilst Catelyn rushed to her feet to greet her, almost stumbling as she did so to nearly fall if Margaery had not been there to catch her. However despite the lack of comfort, Catelyn managed a curtsy but struggled to maintain her balance. "Your Grace." She bowed her head which only succeeded in making Margaery laugh.

"I told you once before, Catelyn... may I call you that?" Margaery spoke in exasperation, her smile wide and brilliant though as her eyes stared into Catelyn's own, their enthusiasm overbearing. The woman nodded. Pressing her palm against the base of the tree, Margaery sighed deeply before looking back at the older woman. "You need not refer to me in such formalities; I would very much prefer Margaery or even Marg, if it would suit you."

Not sure how to respond to the girl still, Catelyn merely nodded in agreement. Her daughter's words rung through her head then as she remembered how Lia had enlightened her,  _she's been nothing but kind to me. You've no reason to distrust her._

Margaery sighed as she looped her arm through Catelyn's, "A part of me thought you'd be accompanied by that gorgeous little fellow, Alaric... and a part of me hoped I would get the chance to share a hug with the babe." The girl announced as Catelyn immediately broke out into a smile at the mention of her grandson and the admiration Margaery held for the child.

"He's with his mother, I'm afraid." Catelyn told Margaery sincerely as she glanced at the girl with interest. "However, I'm certain Lia would be more than happy to allow you to see him whenever you wished."

The idea brought an even wider smile to Margaery's face. "I may have to do that." She agreed wholeheartedly, as she and Catelyn departed from the Godswood gradually. "He's such a handsome babe, and his eyes. They're striking to behold,  _a true born Tully he is_."

Also smiling, Catelyn gave a soft nod of her. "He is."

Sighing in wonder, Margaery glanced up at the sky as a legion of clouds began to pollute around them, blocking the sun. "I hope my children look as handsome as your daughter's." She spoke as Catelyn tried to perceive her true intentions, unable to prevent the caution that plagued her mind.

Not knowing how to reply to what Margaery had just said, Catelyn attempted another angle. "You're fond of her, I can tell..." She announced as the Tyrell's smile grew even further if that was even possible with how she was smiling at that instance. If anything, it worried Catelyn greatly.

"Who, Lia?" Margaery questioned as Catelyn nodded in agreement. " _Oh, of course!_  I vigorously enjoyed her one moon stay at Highgarden after travelling back from Dorne; we became instant friends." Margaery recalled with a greater amount of enthusiasm than before which had Catelyn's questioning Margaery's motives even more.

Catelyn's smile was strained, "I don't doubt that."

But Margaery wasn't done speaking, she then decided to emphaise her relationship with Eliana further to Catelyn's displeasure. "Best friends, even. I would trust her with my life..." She vowed, her eyes darkening dangerously as she glanced to the side to look at Catelyn.

"You are not the first to say that, Margaery." Catelyn informed the young girl as they continued their wandering through the gardens, temporary lost in their chosen topic of conversation that had grasped them both. "Lia, is accustomed to the honour of gaining favour within many hearts."

Looking at Catelyn fully, Margaery caught the tentativeness growing with her gaze which also made her uneasy in turn. "You brought her up well, Cat. She's so lovely... I saw so much of her in Sansa, that's why I gravitated to her immediately; they're so alike, you see." She told the Stark mother as the older woman's gaze immediately softened at her words, obviously having taken her by surprise. "I gravely missed her when she returned to Winterfell, growing up with three brothers is eventful I can assure you but it was nice to be accompanied by another female through the gardens instead of my cousins or a handmaiden of my choosing..."

Catelyn faintly recalled Eliana mentioning her trip to the Reach briefly, however she spoke little of the trip altogether and what she did tell wasn't all that exciting nor worrying but Catelyn had a feeling Margaery knew more than she was letting on. Nonetheless, she played along. "Lia did mention how affable you were whilst during her stay there...I'm glad you warmed to one another, usually highborn girls such as yourself bristle when they meet someone of her..." She struggled to find the word to described her daughter's liking to wielding a weapon and to wanting to protect herself in diverse ways to other ladies of her age. "Essence."

"Oh, on the contrary I adore her!" Margaery exclaimed which made Catelyn almost jump out of her skin at her sudden declaration. "Her prowess with a blade matches my brothers, and I think it's most wonderful - she made a very entertaining show of them when she visited, and grandmother was very pleased to witness it."

Catelyn chuckled at Margaery's piece of information,  _that sounds like Lia indeed..._ "Lia has always been... high spirited much like her aunt and uncle, Lyanna and Brandon. Ned feared it would get her killed if she didn't stifle it some..." She trailed off as she remembered the worry Ned had once been faced with at the hands of Eliana's hot-blooded nature. "He believed that's what got them both killed but Lia has yet to prove him wrong."

Margaery thought on Catelyn's words for a brief moment, and suddenly grew solemn at the change of subject as it fell onto her deceased husband who had been taken from her so early on into their marriage. "Whenever I hear people speak of your lord husband, they all loved him..." She spoke in complete admiration, her eyes growing sombre as she stopped Catelyn and held her hands within her own.

"Did - Does Lia ever speak of her father?" Catelyn asked as her voice betrayed her as it broke, shaking at the mere thought of her dead husband's memory.

Nodding, Margaery recalled the few times Ned Stark was ever mentioned by his daughter in front of her. "She once told me he was the best man she'd ever met..." She started, her voice soft as she spoke. "The first man she ever loved, the man who taught her right from wrong... good from evil. Who taught her justice and duty," Margaery paused as she noted the tears gathering in Catelyn's gaze as she held on tightly to her dainty hands. "The value of friendship and love."

Gathering herself emotionally, Catelyn nodded in understanding, feeling her heart swell at what Margaery was reciting to her... not caring whether it was fiction or not. "He loved her more than life itself... and at a time, she was all  _we_  had, especially during the Rebellion whilst he was away." She told the southern girl as she wiped away the tears fleeing Catelyn's eyes. "She was all  _I_  had until Robb was born to me... then I had the  _both_ of them to bring my husband home to me."

Wiping away her tears completely, Margaery smiled sadly as they resumed their walking once more, Margaery's hand holding Catelyn's tightly. "They say he was as honourable as men came, a great man to have been acquainted with." She let out in disappointment as she realised she'd never gotten the opportunity to meet such a man like Eddard Stark, a honourable man who kept his word. " _I wish I could have met him..._ "

"He would have liked you, as would have Robb."

Her comment caused Margaery to beam at the approval from Catelyn, as she gripped her arm tighter, the thought bringing her sudden happiness. "As I'm sure I would've liked him as well. I would like to have believed that in a different time, if we hadn't been caught up in this war... that perhaps what Lia had suggested could have been true." Margaery spoke, completely lost in wonder as she led Catelyn along with a warm smile befalling her lips, tucking a loose strand of her behind her ear. "That I would have been your good-daughter and wife to Robb... the idea pains me to think upon after recalling how my father dismissed such a notion because it wouldn't have put me on the throne." Catelyn studied Margaery as she poke, her eyes observing as the young woman spoke with such awe of her family. "But I would've loved your son, as I have grown to love your daughter."

Catelyn stared at Margaery, intrigued as to what she meant by the last part but rather than questioning, she remained content with the Tyrell girl on her arm and allowed herself to be led through the gardens despite the growing chill in the air.  _Did she... no._ Clearing her throat, Catelyn went to speak. "I would've very much have liked to call you- "

"Lady Stark!" a panicked voice rose through the air as the pair of women glanced over in the direction it had come from, their eyes narrowing as they caught of Jaime Lannister striding towards them with something in his arms... a babe, no,  _Alaric_. "Catelyn!" Jaime continued to shout which panicked Catelyn at the sight of the Lannister nearing them with her grandson, a darkened look evident across his face.

"Jaime." Catelyn greeted, her eyes trailing to her grandson who sat in his arm securely, his grip tight and protective as he came to a sure halt.

Jaime nodded briefly before reaching to pass over the infant to his grandmother, "Here." He picked up the child and held him out to her, however, it was Margaery who reached for him which made Jaime instinctively pull him away. "My orders are to give Alaric to Lady Catelyn, not yourself Lady Margaery."

Rolling her eyes, she folded her arms over her chest and stared at the Lannister impatiently.

Taking her grandson from Jaime immediately, Catelyn soon handed him to Margaery who was more than willing to accept him as she began to coo over him as she held him in her arms. Jaime's stared in disbelief but saw no point in arguing, and instead, awaited Catelyn's response until he decided feeling would be better if he were to avoid questioning. "Wait, slow down." Catelyn caught Jaime's arm before he could feel the gardens render her completely lost in her own perplexity. "Wait! Where are going... what's got you so riled up?" She demanded, stepping towards him, her eyes full of question and alive with worry.

Her own anxiousness growing, Margaery stared at Jaime, her brows furrowed deeply as she tried to soothe the child in her arms, "Answer the question, Ser." She requested calmly, watching as Jaime glanced between the pair of them, quite clearly undecided. " _Well?"_

Sighing, Jaime clasped his hand behind his back, and thought out to weave his way out of the predicament skillfully without making them worry. "It's not of your concern, Catelyn. I was merely sent to deliver Alaric to you and I have done so, and now I'll be on my way." He explained hastily before he swung around and made to leave the pair of them once more.

"You've yet to answer the question." Margaery let out in annoyance, resting Alaric on her hip as she continued to stare down Jaime, refusing to let him leave until he answered such a simple request.  _How hard could it be?_  Margaery endeavoured once more. "Why do you have young Alaric instead of his mother or father?"

Sweat beaded on Jaime's brow as he contemplate on his approach, knowing it wouldn't go well which ever way he tried. Treading carefully would annoy them both, but going swiftly would ignite their anger almost immediately and he didn't want to come face-to-face with a thorned rose or an angry trout... "How does one go about putting it delicately..." He begun, his good hand fiddling with his gilded one as a means of distraction but that did little to settle his own worry as he continued to avoid the subject all the same.

Catelyn let out a long held breath and folded her arms over her chest, her eyebrow raising as she cocked her head to the side, her eyes boring into him. "My patience is wearing quite thin, Ser. I suggest you tell the truth and let this folly be done with." She waited, not budging and barely moving let along breathing.

 _Now or never..._ "Well..." Jaime let out a nervous laugh, avoiding her gaze as he tried to navigate his way around the situation of wording what he wanted to say. "You see, it's rather awkward for me to put this in a way that won't worry you and it's not easy thing either." He rambled out suddenly, his nerves getting the better of him as he successfully confused Catelyn further whereas, Margaery seemed to grow more annoyed. Nodding, Jaime attempted to continue. "It seems that... Ser Loras?"

" _Loras?_ " Catelyn repeated, outraged as her vexation grew.

"Ser, I'm certain whatever it is it doesn't concern my brother..." Margaery noted as she glanced around to see her brother running towards them, a look of sudden hysteria washing over him as she rolled her eyes at their exaggerations. "What is it with everyone running around like headless chickens through the gardens today? What in the Seven Hells is going on?"

Coming to a sweet halt, Loras looked between Jaime and the two women before clasping a hand down on his shoulder and nodding to his sister and Catelyn in greeting. "Have you- " He started to only be cut off by Jaime abruptly.

Jaime's reaction was immediate and he made sure to prevent Loras from worrying the two women. "Not quite, Ser." His voice was stern and had hardened unlike before when it had been slightly shaken and not as articulate.

Nodding, Loras stepped away and began to retreat, his eyes widening as he met the worried glances of both his sister and Catelyn Stark. "You must inform them,  _now_. Prince Oberyn is on the warpath." Loras ordered strictly whilst Jaime nodded in agreement before he watched the young knight continue his retreat.

Looking exasperatedly after Loras, Catelyn clasped her hands together, trying to settle her nerves as she resumed her gaze so she was looking at Jaime once more. His eyes briefly met hers but they darted away again which confirmed her deepest fears immediately. "Will one you please tell me what's going on... please, I beg of you." Catelyn whispered, although it was loud enough for Jaime to hear and it only made his guilt increase at the tone of her voice the yearning to know, the pain at not knowing. " _I beg of you_."

As he looked to the child in Margaery's arms, his small hands grasping at the golden roses of he dress, Jaime sighed in defeat and began to back away from the air with his bowed.  _Forgive me..._ "Lia is missing." Jaime admitted as he stole a gasp from Catelyn and Margaery both, clenching his teeth whilst his eyes met the floor in shame. "... And no one knows where she is."

* * *

Rubbing her wrists, Eliana flinched slightly as her fingers brushed against the tender bruises that had formed under the skin. She'd turned her back on Cersei upon being released from her chains, and  _by the gods_  it felt nice to be free once more, she never was suited to life as a prisoner... Cersei's movements made her turn around once more to see the blonde woman pouring herself out yet another glass of wine. "That'll kill you, you know."

Noticing that she was being watched, Cersei glanced sidewards and smirked as she realised she's captured Eliana's attention so simply. "Like you would care if I died," Cersei commented as she saw the ghost of a smile cross the Stark's face; so, she was a joke to now? She wished her death?

"You're right; I wouldn't."

Nodding, Cersei sighed deeply as she inhaled the scent of the Arbour red, the smell almost making her mouth water before she took a long gulp of the liquid. She let the liquid sit in her mouth for a moment, savouring the taste, before she swallowed. "Do you love him?" Her mind had drifted back to Jaime as she admitted through the question that the nature of their relationship with one another often lingered upon her mind.

Her lips twitched once more, and Eliana couldn't help but find herself pleased with having occupied Cersei's thoughts so easily, and especially when it was surrounding her relationship with Jaime.  _So, she's jealous..._ "Do you want the truth or the lie?" Eliana decided in that moment it would be far much more fun to annoy Cersei by avoiding answering her question. She knew how to annoy the Dowager queen... and she would strive to achieve that before she would answer her petty enquiries.

Cersei bristled. "It doesn't matter... I'll know if you're telling the lie, I'm not stupid."

Eliana had to try her best to stifle the laugh that threatened to pass her lips, she knew Cersei had the tendency to praise herself but she wasn't as clever as she liked to think she was. "Don't be so sure of yourself..." She stated as she wiped off the blood that had leaked from her arms with her sleeve, sucking in a sharp breath of cool air as the wound stung momentarily upon contact.

Rolling her eyes, Cersei sighed as she drunk from her glass again, her eyes drifting over to Eliana who sat tending to her wounds. " _Well,_ do you love him? It's a simple enough question that deserves an answer." She paused momentarily as she inhaled sharply, her jaws clenched as she composed herself gradually. "It's the least you could do after I released you from your bonds, after all."

Eliana contemplated her options carefully, knowing either one would infuriate the Lannister even more than she was already. "But it can be hard to answer... especially if the answer leaves me questioning myself."

Suddenly, Cersei brought her glass down upon the table, laughing as she did so. "Seven Hells, Eliana!" She roared her name, her eyes growing into slits as they zeroed in on her from where she stood trapped in her gaze. " _Do you love my brother?_ "

Eliana saw no point in sugar coating her response, and barely hesitated upon Cersei repeating herself. "Yes." Her voice calm yet firm as she spoke in reply.

"Does he know?" Cersei asked as she moved to resume her place sitting at the table where the wine had been placed. She needed to know if Jaime knew how she felt, and if he reciprocated her feelings - that was the most paramount part, she needed to know of his affections.  _She needed to know._

"No." Eliana shook her head softly, her eyes trained upon the ground when she answered, her eyes unwavering and sincere at the topic. "No, he doesn't."

Leaning back into her chair, Cersei raised a brow in her direction, intrigued. "Do you plan to tell him?" She wondered aloud, seeing her own brows raise in surprise of the question.

Eliana narrowed her eyes at Cersei, her gums becoming trapped between her teeth as she observed. "Why?" She pressed, moving to fold her arms across her chest as she leaned back in question, her brows furrowing further. "Why does it concern you if I tell him or not?" She quizzed with small interest, secretly enjoying the torment she could she boiling within Cersei.

Scoffing, Cersei drained the last contents of her wine before setting the glass aside for the first time in a short while. "Jaime is my brother of course it concerns me- "

"He was your lover once." Eliana noted to Cersei's dismay. " _Not anymore._ "

"Shut your- "

Sighing, Eliana scratched the back of her neck awkwardly, desperately wanting to move on from the subject as she found she couldn't predict Cersei's reactions to what she would say. " _Take him back._ I've offered it many a time." She reminded the Lannister slowly, her eyes deadly still and unblinking as she spoke. " _Take him back,_ and  _then_  you won't have to put up with my rivalry for his affections." Eliana paused once more, wanting her words to sink as Cersei's gaze finally drifted from her to settle upon the air in front of her. " _Take him back_."

Shaking her head, a smile formed on Cersei's lips as she reached for the pitcher again. "That's what you want me to do, isn't it? So you can gloat..." She told Eliana as she gave herself a more than gracious glass of wine she didn't necessarily need but wanted all the same.

" _So I can gloat?_ " Eliana repeated in perplexity. She'd never enjoyed the feeling of gloating, it wasn't a nice sensation to feel and it almost always led to repercussions that rarely ended well. "Why would I want to gloat? Gloating is what a fool does... I don't consider myself to be much of a fool."

"Gloating is what got your brother killed."

Eliana froze at her words, her eyes widening as she registered what Cersei had said, her chest growing tautly at the sensation that flooded through her. The words stung like one of the Frey bolts all over again. She recalled her father's words as she tried to suppress the distress filling her,  _Some wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word._ It was true; the death of Robb was still so raw and tore her apart with the slightest thought... the betrayal made her grit her teeth together so firmly she thought she might shatter them in friction, her fists would clench as she recalled Walder Frey and Roose Bolton, as she recalled the justice she'd yet to serve them with.

Letting a soft breath leave her, Eliana frowned but met Cersei gaze gradually, her eyes solemn before she spoke. "Love got my brother killed; love was his downfall. I warned him to be careful, warned him of how costly it would be to break an oath to Walder Frey. But he refused to listen to me, after all, what did I know about love?" She smiled sadly, her memory causing tears to form in her eyes, making them red as they stung in irritation. "The only man I had ever loved had been... had been beheaded by your son."

Cersei watched her with interest, "You had your betrothed." She commented, altering Eliana to truth as she nodded in agreement.

"That's not the same is it? I barely knew Oberyn then, and I barely know him still." Eliana explained gently, clasping her hands together as she tried to banish the sombre feeling infecting her swiftly, betraying her judgement. "Every ambitious move is a gamble... Robb choosing to marry that foreign- " She visibly flinched at her choice of words as Cersei frowned at her reaction to what she'd said. "Robb choosing to marry _Talisa_  was gamble that didn't pay off. Roose Bolton won his gamble when he killed Robb, so did your father when backing him." Eliana concluded, her guilt growing as she noted her mistake at having referred to Talisa in such a way; she didn't deserve to be remembered that way... she didn't deserve anything that happened to her, neither did her unborn child for that matter.

"I didn't know what they planned."

Cersei's words reached Eliana, and she nodded. She knew that Cersei had no acknowledgement of what her father had planned with Roose Bolton and Walder Frey, and for that she respected of her - many wouldn't admit to not knowing something that had favoured their house enormously. "I believe you... That's your only redeeming quality: you love your children." Eliana smiled sincerely, though it was only brief before it vanished once more.

Frowning, Cersei sipped at her wine. "Is that why you were snogging my father?  _To get close to him?_ To wrap him around your finger to gain leverage over him?" questioned Cersei as she took another long gulp of her wine, a smile forming on Eliana's face at her questions before she composed herself once more.

"To find what remains, you must strip away the gold."

Her frown deepened immediately as she replayed Eliana's words over in her mind. "What is that supposed to mean?" She hissed, not liking the statement or it's unknown meaning that the Stark was associating it with.

"Whatever you want it to mean." She brushed off comfortably. "You see, I've realised there's only one war...  _life against death_. Then, I thought to myself that I'd rather be allies with your father than fight him." Eliana recited as Cersei listened intently, hanging off every word from what Eliana could see evidently from her expression. "But then I learned there's no justice in the world. Not unless we make it... I've made my justice, I've just got to serve it."

Cersei licked her dry lips as she brought her glass back to them, a small smirk playing on her lips, wanting nothing more than to anger the wolf further. "Your brother,  _the Young Wolf_ , he was a vile dog and he died like one. More beast than boy, or so they once said... puffed up with too much pride and blood lust." Cersei's voice taunted as she divulged herself in her wine, not missing as Eliana's eyes grew dark immediately, her face contorting into a snarl of bitterness.

"Careful, now." Eliana hissed in hostility, her fists clenched as she stared Cersei down, her fury thriving within her as she insulted her blood.  _There's nothing more hateful that failing to protect the ones you love_ , Eliana reminded herself as she attempted to dispose of the anger,  _ignore it_. "What do they say about your brother?" She questioned through gritted teeth, already knowing her words would do little to annoy Cersei seeing as it was her own blood that was running high. "They call him the lion of Lannister to his face but they whisper Kingslayer behind his back."

The words were leaving her mouth before she barely had time to register its departure, however, it delivered the response she desired but she couldn't help the slight guilt growing within her at the jab. "At least my brother still lives." She quipped.

Her hands coming down upon the table before her, Eliana glowered as she met Cersei's eyes, her immediate reaction causing the queen to jump as the wine in her grasp spilt. "I'm not playing this stupid game anymore!" Eliana proclaimed, baring her teeth as her rage pulsated through her, making her seethe with anger. "What do you want from me? Why am I truly here?"

Meeting her gaze wistfully, Cersei smiled amusedly. "You killed my son... Or you at least know who did." She accused shortly, her mouth shifting into a thin, grim line.

 _Not this again,_ Eliana tried not to roll her eyes at the common accusation but managed it all the same. Instead, she chose to approach the subject cautiously to allow herself time to regain her serene outlook rather than rising to Cersei's insults. "I know what it's like to lose the people you love..." Eliana begun as she finally looked away from Cersei, running her hand over her brow in exhaustion. "The  _grief_  you feel at their departure; the  _longing_  to hold them in your arms; the  _guilty_  at them having been killed and your hopelessness at having not prevented it...  _I know how it feels_." She met Cersei's verdant gaze once more as she spoke of her own experience. "You blame the entire world for it, but that doesn't lessen the pain... if anything it thrives."

Cersei became oddly still after Eliana had spoken, her spine growing rigid as she replayed each words over in head, her realisation as she spoke more sense than she thought she would ever hear from her. It was true; she'd felt all those things... and she'd blamed it on the world, and if anything, that made it worse than it truly was. "You said the Tyrells... what did you mean?"

Eliana shrugged at the recognition of her earlier statement. "They're a power hungry house. It's like when you feed a stray cat, it'll keeping coming back for more. They want Margaery to be queen... they'll stop at nothing to make that happen." Eliana prompted casually, watching as Cersei's face twisted in anger at the sense she spoke to her, the truth she exposed her to. "How many more Kings will have to die for them to achieve their goal? Renly's gone, Joffrey's gone..."

"Don't you dare..."

Eliana watched as Cersei shook with anger, much like she'd only moments before, and she revelled in witnessing it upon her features. "I'm just saying. Anyway, I would know if they were plotting something; Margaery trusts me... a lot more than she ought to." Eliana explained which piqued Cersei's interest as she sat up in her chair, her back going straight at the subject drifting to the wicked little bitch from Highgarden. " _I would know._ "

"But you would never tell me." Cersei assumed.

"Of course not..." Her Northern accent filtered through the solar as she agreed with a smirk. "But I wish no ill will against Tommen. It was Joffrey who wronged my family, not his brother." Eliana acknowledged as she Cersei continued to watch her closely, her gaze still and concentrated. "Now that he's gone, my animosity for your family is virtually non-existent." She conceded though it was false; her animosity hadn't withered, if anything, it was growing strong.

A laugh erupted from Cersei before she could stop it. "But it still lingers." Cersei concluded, pointing to her head before tapping it.  _It's still in there, she hasn't forgotten it._

Eliana's eyes drifted to the chain lying upon the floor, forgotten and lifeless before she glanced back over at Cersei to see her paying her no attention. "Of course, we're enemies aren't we?" Eliana jested with a small chuckle, no wanting to draw Cersei's attraction to the chain on the floor beside her feet. "I am none the wiser about who did it, by the way. I've my suspicions as I said but why trust my word? Especially against your own blood..." Pausing, Eliana rose an eyebrow as Cersei stiffened. "You still think Tyrion is involved don't you?" Eliana added.

At the mention of her brother, Cersei was filled with distaste and bristled once more. "That little monster always hated him." Cersei ground out, her fist tightening around her glass.

"As did I." Eliana countered.

Rising from her chair, Cersei sighed deeply. "So maybe he killed Joff and you assisted... you're both fond of one another aren't you? You get along well, I've seen it, always talking with one another." Cersei told Eliana, her brow once again furrowed as she paced around the solar, her wine glass still clutched securely within her grasp whilst she glided about the room.

Eliana watched Cersei silently, following her movements with precision as she kept her attention trained on the chain that was just out of her reach her. "Tyrion speaks a lot of sense, and he's rather amusing in fact. However, I refuse to believe he killed Joffrey... yes, they may have not seen eye-to-eye or got on well with one another but..." Eliana shifted slightly, her foot hitting the chain as she did but thankfully, Cersei didn't notice. "I think that perhaps you should have that conversation with Tyrion yourself."

Clutching her wine glass further, her knuckles going white, Cersei clenched her jaws in agitation. "The next time I see my beloved brother will be when his head is mounted upon the city gates." She vowed to herself more than Eliana, or at least that's what her company thought.

With her backed turned to her, Eliana saw her chance and took it. "I wish- " She cut herself off as she reached for chain, concentrating on her balance if not to draw Cersei's attention to her. "- you luck with that as there are many people who would fight to keep Tyrion alive, myself and Jaime among them, I'm afraid." Eliana spoke loudly, as she gripped the chain between both hands, testing the strength.

Ignoring the movements behind her, Cersei continued to gaze out over the city, her grasp on her glass growing firmer as she breathed deeply. "Tyrion is guilty. He deserves to be punished." She asserted as Eliana gritted her teeth and balled her hands into fists, ready to leap into action.

Moving towards her still, Eliana paid no attention to the words that had left Cersei's mouth, she was far too concentrated on her plan to care; she'd been patient enough. "We deserve death..." Her hands moved up on their own accord, reaching to wrap the chain around her neck... she wasn't planning to strangle her but it seemed opportune and regretful to pass up. "...  _We all do_."

Choosing to not waste anymore time, Eliana lifted the chain above Cersei's head before dropping it around the base of her throat and tugged swiftly as the wine glass was rudely struck from her grasp when her hands flew to her throat, clawing at the chain. Her fingers tightened on the ends of the chain as she pulled on it still, its robust shells pressing against her throat, causing her to whimper and wheeze.

Starting struggle, Cersei continued to scratch at the chain, trying to pry Eliana from killing her. "What- what are you doing?" Cersei wheezed.

"I'm wringing your neck," Eliana's voice sung to Cersei as her grip remained firm and robust, the life being squeezed from her as she fought on, struggling and scratching at her hands to let her free. "I won't let you hurt anyone else again." Eliana vowed as her grip remained constant.

As Cersei grew too feeble to struggle and a blackness began to cloud her vision, all she could think was that she had been unable to change anything... but she wasn't ready to die just yet; she couldn't leave Tommen and Myrcella. From nowhere, Cersei kicked back against the wall and flung into Eliana which sent them both falling over at the chairs that had been drawn up beside the table.

The chain was released from her neck suddenly.

With her hair dishevelled, Cersei had never been so thankful to breathe. Recovering from the sudden shock of the pain, her watery eyes were already focused once again despite her ragged breathing. Gradually, Cersei's gaze flickered and darted and around the room frantically until they met the sword she'd ordered Meryn to leave with her as her form of protection. It had never been such a welcomed sight. Grasping for the hilt, she took it into her hand as laughter broke out through the air.

Looking around, Cersei's eyes widened when she saw Eliana grinning manically as she stumbled to her feet, her laughter dying sweetly. "That was fun, wasn't it? Nothing like a good tumble to get our juices going." Eliana let out as she tried to catch her breath; she hadn't noticed that Cersei had armed herself.

Staggering to her feet as well, Cersei stumbled towards Eliana, the sword raised above her head and ready to attack. Cersei had never swung a sword in her life; Eliana had been brought up with swords. Cersei was panicking; she felt betrayed, lied to and used... and she detested it. "Fuck you," She snarled, voice rough as she continued to wheeze. "You had no right – " She never finished the sentence.

Eliana had turned around to face her, and she was swiftly met by the swift bite of the blade as it sunk into her flesh; it's bite cold but but no less deadly.

* * *

Margaery had always known that she had to protect herself... other girls may find safety in the arms of men but Margaery had only ever see men for what they truly were - steps on the ladder which led to the success she wished to bring herself along the way... something she'd craved for as long as she could remember. But there were times when the path she took grew lonely... not that she would ever admit to it, of course, especially not to others.

She did not expect, when she first met Eliana Stark, that such a strong-willed, spirited and vivacious yet shrewd person could ever give her something she'd never realised she needed in her life.

The attraction was followed by calculation. She wasn't foolish, never blundered, and chose her conquests as she always did, with strategic interest and political savvy. Being the Lord of Highgarden's only daughter, little opportunities were ever sent Margaery's way... her grandmother forced her to make hard choices but that didn't necessarily mean she hadn't learned how to fashion those opportunities for herself.

She remembered inviting her to numerous luncheons, cajoling her with compliments to draw her out with her sweet words and unwavering attention. But it wasn't an easy task; Eliana wasn't as doe-eyed as her sister, and she sought out Margaery's intentions and put a swift end to them but chose to then abandon her efforts when she realised the lengths Margaery was going to so she could restore her contentment. Margaery revered the fact that she lived in a world where a woman's powerful attention with another could be dismissed as purely social and nothing other than that. If she was to take lovers, it wouldn't be without utmost caution on her behalf... but she was neither the person to regret her circumstances either.

Yet Eliana was unlike so many of the girls Margaery had known before... yes, she was spirited, gregarious and strong-willed but she was heedful and perceptively astute with her words articulately strung when she spoke. However, when she met her friend once again in the capital she was no longer the woman she once knew. That Eliana Stark was earnest in her speech and incredibly mindful of everything around her and somewhat jaded. So, Margaery considered it an enormous victory when Eliana slowly began to concede their friendship again.

Gradually Eliana had let Margaery back into her heart, into her mind as they would regain their momentary companionship. However, despite the connection that had been rekindled, there was still a sadness in her that Margaery couldn't access it, couldn't melt from the icy grip that held Eliana in its thrall, the clutches that held her tightly in place which kept her high strung and altered. Eliana had let her in carefully, one step at a time, but not fully. She was certain there would always be more passages to be unlocked within the labyrinth of the girl, whose walls had been built so disorderly, unexpectedly but robustly.

Margaery recalled when Eliana had first taken her to the Godswood within the walls of Highgarden, Margaery had walked cautiously. Usually, she was more than familiar with stepping into any area she chose and rather confidently at that, but the Godswood was new to her still... she found that was a familiar sensation when Lia was involved.

Since hearing of her sudden disappearance, Margaery found herself wandering towards the Godswood absentmindedly, her thoughts guarded as walked as if to stifle her own worry... as if to feel her presence around her as she did so. Catelyn had rushed off after Jaime, swiftly taking the babe from her arms as she did so, leaving Margaery alone as she'd become so accustomed to as of late.

However, she felt her mind would be put at ease if she were to venture to the place she'd shared a connection with her Northern companion... and a part of her wanted to believe she would find her lurking there, wandering through the trees, talking to them like she always did when they went walking there.

The thought alone brought her some comfort as she neared the place of rest, her mind set upon finding her own peace to banish the growing anxiousness for her missing friend... not that her forefathers would speak to her, a Tyrell. She would find no comfort in the Old Gods, she knew... but Lia did, so she had to at least try.

Billowing around her eerily, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end at the sensation as Margaery was wrapped in the chilly confines of the wind. Shivering, she glanced around to be met with nothing put the pale faces of trees, solemn and silent, as she traipsed through them with caution, enough caution to make her feel as though she was trespassing where she ought not belong.

She'd been right though, despite her exercised caution, Margaery had been right.

Silently observing, Margaery couldn't help but stare as the shadow weaved through the looming crowds of the Godswoods occupants, the figure gliding through the faces of old as if she had been acquainted with them before. Her intrigue successfully piqued, Margaery wandered after the figure swiftly, the trail of her gown swallowing the nest of rich red leaves of the weirwood tree that had swamped the ground she walked upon as they were swept along gracefully.

Pausing behind a weirwood, Margaery merely stared at the Northerner before her, her almond her eyes transfixed on the sight.

She shivered as the brisk air snaked through the curls of her raven braid that laid cascading down her back whilst she moved precariously through the clusters of trees, pressing the palms of her hands against their white trunks before pressing her forehead against the base of the tree as if talking to it silently within her mind, conversing with her forefathers. Whispering about her loving father and her hot-blooded brother, her stern grandfather and her ardent uncle...

Without turning, Margaery jolted as she was startled by Eliana as she spoke from where she stood with her forehead and palm pressed firmly against the face of the weirwood, her breathing shallow as it drifted softly through the air to greet her. "The trees are much smaller here than they are at home..." She announced in faint amusement which was followed by a silent chuckle at her observation, "But no less comforting, it would seem."

As Eliana's words met Margaery's ear, the southerner smile in sincerity at what she'd said, sympathising with her loss of attachment at being stranded in such a place as King's Landing. "I would very much like to go there..." She said as she noted how utterly alone she looked, like the only statue left from some empire that had faded and crumbled long ago.

Smiling at her reply, Eliana turned to look at Margaery as she stepped closer into her line of view. "I'll take you someday..." She vowed to the rose while she tried to ignore the painful sensation twisting in her gut as she remained pressed against the body of the weirwood, far too cautious to move herself. Adjusting her hand swiftly, and not noticing the the smeared hand print of fresh blood being imprinted upon the trunk, she turned to face Margaery as her other arm was pressed tightly over her torso, shielding her wound from view but not the hand print.

Margaery let out a sharp gasp as she spotted the hand print almost immediately, her eyes goes wide at how the blood ran down the skin of the tree, signifying to her that Eliana had a fresh wound somewhere upon her body. "Lia..." She surged forward but Eliana shook her head vigorously, refusing to let her near her as she stayed pressed against the tree. Her eyes trailed downwards gradually as Eliana re-positioned her hand to apply renewed pressure to the wound.

 _Oh by the Gods..._ Ignoring Eliana's wishes, Margaery startled towards her with purpose just as she sunk rather unexpectedly to her knees to be rendered upon the leave strewn ground, mixing with the mess leaving her body as she winced in agony. "Eliana, by the gods, what happened to you?" Margaery questioned as she knelt beside her, her hands immediately finding the source of the blood and pressing down harshly.

"Nothing I didn't deserve..." Eliana smiled stupidly as Margaery's brow furrowed in deep concern when the blood continued to stain her hands. "The Queen Regent doesn't like me very much..."

Unexpectedly, tears prickled within Margaery's eyes much like a thousand swords would a corpse, her hand still pushing down assertively whilst Eliana spat out the blood that had gathered in her mouth.  _The blood... t_ _here's so much of it._ "Lia, the blood- you're bleeding..." She trailed off as the words stuck in her throat as she found she was too afraid to speak.

"- Quite a lot, I'm afraid." Eliana finished for Margaery, frowning when she saw the bloodied state of Margaery's gown and knowing it was tainted beyond repair of a good wash that made her feel insanely guilty as she knew how much she favoured her gowns. "Apologies for bloodying your gown..."

Without giving any consideration, Margaery took Eliana's hand into her own. It was warm. After a moment, Eliana glanced down with a flicker of gratitude shining within her eyes at the gesture. Glancing upwards to meet Margaery's gaze, Eliana let her head hit the trunk with a soft sigh. "Nonsense, you silly woman," She chastised her, trying to sound firm and annoyed until a panicked sob passed her lips. "You think I care about my gowns whilst you sit here bleeding to death?"

Chuckling, Eliana shrugged lightly at her snide comment. "Probably not but it could be questioned, I suppose." She let out quietly as she coughed up more blood, her mouth swimming with the repulsive taste of rust and vinegar. Spitting once more, she let out a soft sigh in pain, her eyes watching Margaery carefully as she witnessed the panic arising within her eyes. "Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word..."

"She'll rot in the deepest of the Seven Hells for this..." Margaery breathed in subtle anger as the blood continued to spill over her hands despite her constant pressure over the wound. " _I'll see to it myself if I have to._ "

"There is only one hell..." Eliana spoke in a tone which successfully stirred torment within the rose as she did. "The one we live in now." Margaery squeezed her hand tightly and then relaxed her grip, her attention centered on the blood making her grip difficult to sustain. "I wish... I wish we could just get on a ship and sail away...  _Away from all this... from everything._ "

Margaery tried not to make a sound as she blinked away her tears, the candid proof of what dwelled in her heart. She couldn't help but feel enticed by the idea of that being a reality... being elsewhere and content, and at peace with letting Lia plan and have the control. She never trusted anyone but her grandmother to plan her actions and yet, when she looked to Lia, after all the happiness she brought her in Highgarden she knew she could place her life in her hands... she reminded her that there were other things in life other than the constant battle for the throne. "I'd like that," Margaery said quietly as the lump in her throat admitted to her the impossibility of what she might want; her human impulses ruining everything she'd always thought she needed in her life.

"What are you thinking?" Eliana questioned as Margaery looked at her properly, her eyes going wide when she saw how much paler she was in contrast to her usual tone of complexion; it was unsettling to behold.

Rising from her knees, Margaery grew hesitant as she realised she didn't want to leave Eliana alone with the fear she may return to find her gone and be beyond saving. Shaking her head, she swallowed the lump in her throat and offered a sad smile of a reassurance. "Stay here while I fetch someone..." She begged of her, her hand clutched Lia's own whilst she pressed her other hand into her own wound, wincing as Margaery's own shook.

"I'm not going anywhere any time soon, don't you worry."

And with that, Margaery fled as she left Lia hanging on to what little strength she could muster as she eyed the pool of blood growing around her.

As she sat there in silence, save for her own shallow breathing, the world grew quiet and vast, or so it seemed in the confines of the Godswood. Despite the agony she was in, there was something humbling, cold and crisp hanging in the air; every breath was frigid and seemingly like ice. The place of sacred had once been her sanctuary, much like her lord-father's but it wasn't the Godswood in Winterfell... it wasn't her home where she belonged. The Godswood in King's Landing was no place she could seek refuge from promises, sins, and Lannisters...

She could recall the stillness of the pond in the Godswood at Winterfell, she remembered being frightened of it as a child, noting its dark and bottomless depths but as she grew older it became a bitter comfort. As a red leaf fell from the Heart Tree, she caught it between her fingertips and smiled at it. "Now you wish to speak riddles to me?" Eliana shook her head, "I have to die to hear things from you? A person can only survive so much..."

Gooseflesh littered her limbs, as the leaves littered the floor of the Godswood, and a lifetime ago she might have found it an annoyance rather than reassurance of those around her... but she was different then, and she's much more different now. The life surrounding her was slow, seemingly inanimate and dead, and it reflected her life since the departure of her lord-father from her own.

Eliana sighed as she recalled the long and passively sad face of the weirdwood tree, with eyes that were red that had been hardened with red sap. Gazing at it again, she caught something she had noted when she'd studied it before. The face was not the face of the old gods... but of her father. His grey eyes were carved deeply and rather severely into the tree's face and were obscured by the red sap that reminded her of her mother's hair and all of the Stark blood that had been shed in the war.

Sniffling, she let her head fall back to rest against the body of tree as she let her hands fall away from her wound, a faint smile gracing her lips. "I miss you so much... more than you'll ever know." She whispered as her voice was carried through the Godswood, swept up by the light breeze.

The sky overhead was Stark grey and limitless, a lovely contradiction to the predicament she found herself in as she stared through her blurred vision, her smile growing. As a cool breeze threaded its way through the weirwood leaves, Eliana could feel the blood leaving her as her wound ripped her body apart. " _I think I'm dying..._ "

* * *

" _I think I'm dying..._ " she said out loud, though there was no one there to hear her, she was alone in the tower... the Kingsguard lurked outside, somewhere, but they would bring her no comfort,  _not now, not ever_.

She'd never felt so weak... so exhausted and dead-like, and she knew she would die. Her death was imminent. Her child would die too, she was certain of it. What caused her guilt to grow, was that she hoped so. Rhaegar had sent the Kingsguard to watch her, but not for her sake, for the babe she carried inside her. And with that, he'd rode off to die, most likely. The crown prince was a great warrior, all the seven kingdoms knew, but she recalled Robert's strength and his legendary warhammer and she knew who would persevere.

" _I gave you everything..._ "

Lyanna lay screaming in the bed until her throat was raw once another birthing pain stole her strength, but all her screaming couldn't stop the pain. The linen of her bed was blood soaked and damp with her sweat but she felt so cold.  _Kill me,_  she wanted to scream,  _just kill me and get it over with!_

In the throes of her suffering and agony, she all but dismissed the shouts and echoes of clashing swords outside, she was too busy clutching the bed sheets and screaming to the gods, begging for her death and to put an end to it all. She couldn't careless who the combatants were... or who was dying, she only wished for her own death.

Ned came bursting through the door of the chamber Lyanna was settled in, followed silently by Howland Reed. Upon seeing her writhing in the bed, they both froze immediately and Lyanna resisted the temptation to not laugh, but the reunion was far too sad. She couldn't even manage a wolfish smile before another wave of pain rocketed through her.

" _Lyanna..._ " He let out as she struggled to speak, his grey eyes matched the wrenching agony plain upon his face when his eyes fell upon her.

She knew it would be Ned. She knew it would be her kind, sweet, quiet brother that would find her in the end, though she knew it was too late to save her; the blood that was flooding from her and was sticky between her thighs told her that. She had tried to yell for Ned, tried to explain to him that he'd got it all wrong, that she hadn't been kidnapped like they all believed; but she was weak from the birthing pains she'd been forced to endure alone... she couldn't tell him. She let him down, she let them all down.

" _Ned... Ned..."_  Lyanna whimpered mutely, " _Oh, Ned._ "

Suddenly she was crying, crying in such a way she hadnt before... crying with grief and love rather than out of pain. Ned clumsily approached her bed, weary and fatigued from battle once he knelt beside her, his elbow knocking over the vase of blue winter roses that sat beside her but had died many weeks before. Rather than the buds being the royal blue shade, they were crisp and had turned a strangled purple shade as the petals scattered across her bed and the floor.

Ned wasn't foolish; he'd noticed the rounded bump that was her stomach... the babe was still in there but he knew nothing of midwifery, that much had been evident when Cat had gone into labour with Eliana - he'd been effectively useless. Looking to Howland, Ned hoped and he prayed his friend would know what to do, his friend had to know something.  _He had to._

Howland moved around the bed, exceedingly gentle as he did, his hands settling upon her legs as he parted her thighs and spoke to her in a tender voice, his voice guiding her as Ned looked on worriedly as the tremble was evident through his voice.

However the pain intensified, even as Ned stroked her hair and sat whispering kind words to her, she couldn't ignore the discomfort that shot through her when Howland reached forward and handled the babe leaving her. Heaving, Lyanna wept as Howland cut the cord with his knife and she hoped it wouldn't cry. She hoped it was dead so it wouldn't have to be burden with the predicament she'd caused out of her naivety.

But when Howland wiped the blood from its brow, a fresh wail echoed through the air; it was alive and screaming, that twisted, red thing she'd bore.

When the babe was laid upon her breast, her breathing hitched and became ragged. She couldn't bear to look at it, not without being reminded... it was there, alive and screaming, because of all her mistakes and girl-like fantasies. But she let it sit there, squirming and screaming.

Seeing the disdain in her gaze, Ned took the babe in his hands gently, its body engulfed by his huge hands. " _Lyanna..."_  Ned whispered softly, his eyes trained upon the black-haired beauty in his hands. " _A son... you have a son._ "

Despite not wanting to, Lyanna glanced at it, and she hated herself for doing so. The baby's bawling face was scrunched as it continued to scream. She wanted to detest him, and she wanted to hate him so much that her heart broke all over again... but it was a  _he_ , not an  _it_.  _He_ was her son. As if sensing her change of heart, the babe ceased it's screaming and opened his eyes. Looking at her, she looked back at him and saw her own grey eyes staring back at her.

He looked like the North, like Ned, with dark curls and big grey eyes...  _so beautiful, so precious_.

She couldn't name him Brandon or Rickard... those wounds hadn't healed but simply festered and her child, being bore because of her own mistakes, didn't deserve their name. She liked the name Jon. Jon was a good name, a strong name... she wanted her son to have a strong name for he would need it. Mnay Northern Kings from what she could remember had strong names, and she wanted her son, the true King of Westeros to have a King's name. He deserved that at least.

" _Oh gods..._ " Lyanna breathed, tears continuing to brim in her eyes as she spoke.  _Ned, you have to promise me,_ please _, promise me. Keep him safe for me, you must. Promise me..._ " She kept whispering it, unable to stop herself as the worry flooded through her.

Her innocence was to blame for all that had happened... her death seemed right. She started the war that led to her son and the death of so many lives, and it was only right that she should spill her blood over a life at the end of it all. That was probably what many soldiers wanted, for she was responsible for the deaths of the people they loved... and Lyanna knew she deserved to die more than any of them did. But she had already been more selfish than anyone else could have possibly been...

" _Lya_ ," Ned whispered, as many emotions drifted through his voice, causing Lyanna to close her eyes in a hope to stop the tears.

" _He didn't rape me_ ," She said, it was she could say, knowing how it must have looked - that she'd left no letter not that she had the chance to sen any, because Rhaegar had whisked her away. She hadn't intended any of it, his arrival at Winterfell, but he was so handsome and gallant and she didn't want to marry Robert... she just didn't know how to tell anyone that, not even her sweet Ned.

But then her father and brother had died at the hands of Aerys, and all she wanted was Ned... all she wanted was Ned but Rhaegar couldn't give her what she desired most... all she wanted was the North and Rhaegar wouldn't give it her.

Looking to her brother, she saw his wide grey eyes that were so much like her own, like Brandon and Benjen's also... she missed them all so much, her brothers and her parents... the North.  _Her home._

The pain from the birth was gradually leaving and she was left with a growing sense of numbness. Ned was still staring at Jon, and he slowly stroke his cheek as he cooed at the action, causing Ned to smile widely. She was glad. She knew Ned would love her son. Whatever issues he would have with her, he would never take them out on her son.

" _I have a son too,_ " Ned suddenly spoke as a jolt of surprise shot through Lyanna. She didn't know that, she should've known that.

" _Cat gave birth again?_ " She was getting so tired, but she wanted to know about her nephew, she wanted to feel like she knew Ned's son.  _Someone for Jon to play with..._ " _What's his name?_ " Lyanna mumbled. She felt so cold. " _What's his name, Ned?_ "

" _Robb_ ," He said. " _Cat named him Robb._ " Ned must have named him after Robert of course... Lyanna never wanted to marry him, and despite how much she wished she'd thought through her escape with Rhaegar, she didn't regret running. She was certain he would get over her, and he would find a nice girl and forget all about her.

" _Robb Stark,_ " Lyanna tried to offer her best smile at the news. " _That's a good name._ " After she spoke, they fell into a unexpected but welcomed silence before she went to speak again. " _What about Lia? How is she? I haven't seen her in so long..._ "

Ned was quiet for a few seconds before he spoke again, a bright smile spreading across his face at the mention of his daughter. " _She's beautiful... father and Brandon though so, but there's no fault in my eyes. She's perfect in every way._ " Ned breathed in awe, his eyes shining. " _She's so smart, Lya... you should see her; she's a fast learner and spirited, so spirited - I can barely keep up with her._ "

Lyanna's smile grew softer at his words, her gaze briefly flickering towards the babe upon her breast before going back to her brother. " _Careful Ned, you say anything more, everyone will know you've gone soft._ "

Ned smiled at that but looked at Jon again. " _Are you going to name him, Lya? He needs a name."_

_"Jon."_

Ned's smile widened at the name,  _"I like his name; it's a good name._ "

" _Yes, it's a good Stark name,_ " Lyanna agreed softly.  _"At least I think so... wouldn't you agree._ "

" _I think it's a wonderful name, Lya._ "

Lyanna smiled again, her eyes growing tired... she was so tired. " _Ned, you must promise me that you'll take care of him. That you'll make sure he's always safe, safe from_ them _, safe from_ him _... and that he'll never want for anything. Please..._ "

" _You're be responsible for that, Lya, you'll be able to do all those things._ " She'd never heard Ned sound so desperate before; he'd always been so good at keeping his composure. She hoped that wouldn't come back to harm him in the future.  _"Don't you dare think otherwise._ "

Lyanna nodded faintly, licking her lips before she spoke again, " _Promise me, Ned._ "

" _Lya!_ "

But she wasn't listening to him, " _You must promise me, Ned._ " Was she crying? It felt like she was crying.

It was Ned's turn to not listen, to try and convince himself it would all turn out well... " _Lya, listen to me, you are not going to die. I won't let that happen to you, I promise._ "

" _I don't want to, but I am... I don't want my son to grow up with Robert being King rather than his father, but that will happen. Nor did I want father and Brandon to die but they did!_ " Lyanna all but screeched, her voice failing her as she did.  _"Accept it, Ned. Just accept it..._ "

With a shaky breath, Ned nodded slowly, his mind reeling as he contemplated all Lyanna had said. " _I promise... I promise that I will look after your son as well as I possibly can. I promise to give him everything I have, and to lay down my life for Jon if that's what it costs._ " Ned vowed gravely, his eyes saddened and grief ridden. " _I promise you, Lya._ "

She smiled, she didn't feel as cold anymore but her fear hadn't wavered. " _I don't want to die alone..._ " Lyanna begged suddenly, knowing it was selfish of her but she couldn't help it. She wanted Ned to hold her, she needed the comfort of her, she needed her Ned. " _Please, Ned._ "

Even more emotions crept into his voice as he wrapped his arm around her once more, being mindful of Jon as he rested upon her breast. " _Lya..._ " Gingerly, he sat down on the bed next to her, his arm encircling around her shoulder for support. securing around her, protecting her.

Gradually, the pain lessened. It was good to not be in pain. The world was growing dark around her as Ned was gripped her hand so tautly, but she could barely feel it anymore. Dimly she heard her name being cried over and over again like a prayer fluttering around her. Contently, she drifted away from it, sinking deeper into the clutches of the depths of sleep... she finally felt warm and free.

* * *

She felt homely and mellow all of a sudden... it was welcoming as the pain lessened and the world grew darker around her. As her lifeblood seeped out of her, crawling over her fingers, Eliana sighed softly before allowing her hand to drop. It wasn't doing any good anyway, the damage had already been done. She knew it was selfish of herself, but she didn't want to be saved. All she wanted was her father. All she wanted was her brother. And her grandfathers and uncle and aunt, for that matter. All she wanted was the North and her home...

Gripping the leaves which rested beneath her hands, Eliana gritted her teeth as another wave of wave fizzled through her withering body.  _No, you deserve this..._ she could feel her vision being impregnated by black spots as it began to cloud, her eyes losing focus whilst her head began to drop from the blood loss. Perhaps she was dying...  _Finally._

She was at the tree, not  _their_ tree but she could feel them all there, watching her, waiting for her. Father, Robb, her grandfather and uncle Brandon and aunt Lyanna... they were all there, observing as she atoned her sins.

" _Are you coming to the tree?_ " she thought she heard Robb say, his auburn curls bouncing in the wind as he grinned at her, his eyes playful but solemn.

Eliana nodded at him,  _I'm already here brother,_ " _Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me..._ " She recalled the song faintly, floating around in the back of memory somewhere, she thought it was lost to her. Her and Robb used to sing the tale when they would wander through the Wolfswood, more so after they encountered a man who had hung himself, but it had stuck with them. They'd never forgotten it. " _Strange things did happen here... no stranger would it be,_ " Eliana let out quietly, her voice failing her as they disappeared.

Panicking slightly, she tried to look around her to find them once more but she was far too weak to do so, her energy having fled from her, leaving her stranded before the tree as the song rung through her head to pollute her mind. Feeling her eyes growing heavier, Eliana smiled again as she allowed them to close, amused by the fact she was dying at a tree of all places. " _If we met at mightnight in the hanging tree..._ "

The world was quiet and vast around her as her sense left her, left her in the chill of the evening.

She never heard the footsteps or the ragged breath, nor the hand that took her face into it but she did hear the voices. The voices she knew, the voices she remembered.

"Help her, please." one called out faintly.

"Look at me." They demanded as their grip was firm on her cheek, enough to will her to open her eyes minutely. "Don't you dare... don't you dare die.  _Not now, not after everything._ I won't let you."

She could hear her name being called out over and over again like some worn prayer her father would offer to the old gods, the voices growing fainter as she drifted away from them... nearing the clutches of death.

"Jaime." She whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All credit and rights go to Suzanne Collins and Jennifer Lawrence on "The Hanging Tree".


	59. Zest

Leaning forward, Jaime clenched his jaw as he brushed a few loose strands of hair from her face, forgetting he wasn't alone in the room. Sighing, he lowered his head and pressed a soft kiss to Eliana's brow, closing his eyes briefly. "I love you," He murmured low enough so Margaery wouldn't hear him, but he doubted she would say anything unless it aided her in any way.

When he eventually pulled away, he looked to the woman sat beside Eliana. "I must speak with someone who knows what's going on..." Jaime informed Margaery, though it was more for Lia, he felt he was betraying her by leaving but he had to find out why this had happened to her. He had to. He needed to speak with his father... and Oberyn. Of course, he would need to deal with Cersei but it wasn't the time to do so. "Come and find me when she wakes... I want to be here."

Margaery nodded silently, her eyes trailing to where Jaime's gaze was direction before she watched him retreat from the room, his bowed as he disappeared. She sighed once she was left alone with Lia again, rubbing her eyes before her gaze still upon the direwolf that hadn't moved since his mistress had been brought to the room.

Her attention was guided away from the beast when she heard the stirrings of incoherent mutters and mumbles falling from her lips, Margaery frowned as she tried to make them but failed due to the gibberish that met her ear and make it difficult to understand what was being said even if she did understand a few words spoken.  _Daemon... Blackfyre Rebellion... Balerion the Black Dread..._ Her brows rose when she heard the names of the crown prince's wife and children; Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon VI.  _Why was Lia dreaming about them of all things? How could she? They happened before her time..._

Margaery didn't know the reasoning behind it, and to be honest, she didn't want to seek out the answer either because such things falling from Eliana's lips couldn't be spoken in goodness... all names were associated with terrible travesties, Margaery knew that well enough, well enough to not question them.

Her brown decreased further when she looked to the bandage wrapped tightly around Eliana's leg - she hadn't even known about that wound, and she doubted Lia had as well because the wound at her torso had been so pretentious and lethal. She had gotten herself into such a state, it was a wonder she was still alive. Margaery observed as her chest rose slowly and dropped, the bandage made it hard to see, but she was breathing  _thank the gods._

She was impressed; Jaime had been the most wonderful help she could have ever imagined. In all honest truth, she hadn't expected Jaime to rush off like he had in search for a Maester but he returned with haste, and with Qyburn which perplexed her. " _Lia wouldn't have it any other way..._ " he had said to her, and she never questioned it.

But Qyburn had saved her, and from what she gathered, it wasn't the first time he'd done so either.

The disintegration upon the left side of Eliana's face didn't bother her as she thought it ought to; she should have been terrified or at least horrified by the sight, she supposed. It wasn't particularly grotesque as the rumours had said but neither was it kind; it wasn't a scarcely made scarring but rather, an extensive cicatrix that trailed along her face delicately, intricately.

Margaery found it endearing if anything. In fact, she found everything about her Northern friend endearing.

Glancing around her chamber, the queen-to-be sighed to herself as her hair fell over her shoulder, depleted. It was only her left... still sitting by her bedside when the others could not; her poor mother; her furious husband; her ardent lover... and her sweet good-daughter. She was exhausted, she saw no point in denying it but she'd encouraged Catelyn to leave and get some rest of her own.

Oberyn, she recalled, had paced wildly around the chamber and he'd drove her mad, near to insanity. He clenched his fists as he contemplated what little options he had left to act upon, his anger withering away within him as he stood watch over his wife. He'd helped her not, he'd aided her none, he'd not protected her as he should've... he'd failed her in Magaery's eyes and she wouldn't forgive him for that.

But Jaime had proven himself, which she was grateful for... he'd pulled through when she needed him to do so; he had let her or Lia down, and because of him Lia was still breathing. However, Jaime had attempted to dissuade her from staying but Margaery would have none of it; she felt it was her fault in the first place... she'd left Eliana alone when she should have ordered a servant to find someone. It was her fault. But where was Jaime? The fool had fled to seek out his sister in an attempt to right her wrongs. Margaery had bristled at the decision but he had ignored her all the same.

Obara had remained for a short while, the young snake having made Margaery read to her the tale of  _Florian and Jonquil_. The tale had failed to entertain the girl at all, instead she'd sat there quietly except for a few scoffs that left her mouth as she was read to. Margaery noted her to be prickly and very much like her father in attitude which worried her slightly, for Oberyn was unpredictable more than he was sensible.

Looking towards Eliana again, Margaery's gaze turned solemn as her eyes traced the labyrinth of scars that danced upon her paled skin. Margaery had always thought Eliana to be a Northern deity to the Seven Kingdoms, one they should embrace. It hadn't taken her long to figure that out... her appearance no matter how much some would argue remained to be a ghastly sigh, still shone through. The way her raven curls lined her face evenly as she slept for what looked to be the first time in a long while despite the circumstances that had put her there. There was a slight crease between her eyebrows as if she slept contemplating things, which Margaery deduced was very probable... she'd seen so much horror after all, it was bound to haunt her.

"It's considered rude to stare."

Margaery jumped out of her thoughts quickly as soon as the words had left her friend's mouth, her eyes widening as Eliana stirred faintly, wincing as she opened her eyes to meet Margaery with her usual sparkling glance which held the mysterious glint still glowing within them that all knew too well. "How long have you been awake?" she questioned in concern.

"Well, when you decided the cut off the circulation to my hand, I was rudely awakened." Eliana jested weakly as she looked around the room, noting that she was in an unfamiliar chamber with no Alysanne or Eleanor fluttering about... it wasn't hers, it  _definitely_  wasn't hers.

Margaery's face fell at her words and she immediately let go of her hand, and chose the clasp her own to stifle her worry. "Lia, I'm sorry..." She blurted in panic, knowing she'd unintentionally hurt her without even realising it. "I didn't mean to, I- I was just so worried..."

"I'm jesting with you," Eliana brushed off lightly, smiling when Margaery began to scowl at her sudden and unannounced playfulness. "Where's Jaime?" She pressed in a quiet voice which caught Margaery off guard.  _Jaime is her first priority and not her husband or son?_

"He rushed off when he caught word of Tyrion's arrest, Lia." Margaery explained softly, reaching for the table so she could pass a glass of water to Eliana, who accepted it with a nod of her head, taking it into her hands. "He left not long ago; he was furious, maddened..."

Pulling the glass from her lips, Eliana sighed though it came out in the form of a wheeze which made Margaery wince on her behalf, making her agony all the more evident. "And what of my mother? Where is she?" Eliana added, her mind instantly flying to her mother and how she would be losing her mind at what had happened to her.

Margaery looked solemn once more at the subject of Catelyn, and Eliana knew something was right with her which stirred her own worry once more. "Your mother is sleeping, I believe,  _thank the gods_. She refused to sleep until she finished making that- " Margaery gestured to the homemade prayer wheel that had been left at the head of her bed, sporting the Faith of Seven, her mother's faith... her mother's protection for her children. Eliana smiled softly as she took it into her hands, her fingers tracing each of the Seven. "... She kept saying you would need if for protection, she made poor Alysanne root through the gardens for the supplies she needed to make it." Margaery paused as Eliana watched her, "She's a stubborn woman; she wouldn't let me help her... I admire her."

Eliana nodded in recognition of hearing those words once before, her mother had said them when Jon had come down with the pox when she'd been full of guilt at having being selfish enough to wish him dead. "It worked the first time when she made one for me..." She spoke, her mind trapped upon the time she almost died during her young childhood. "She would never let me help her either, she always says  _a mother makes one for her children to protect them,_  so I leave her to get on with it rather than argue over dried twigs and string when I know I won't win."

Margaery nodded, her own eyes gracing the wheel fondly as she remembered having watched Catelyn persevere through the night to finish it if Lia was to make it, as she kept muttering over and over some incoherent prayer from what she'd assumed she hoped to protect her daughter's life. "My own mother is fond of making them, she made quite a number when your husband maimed Willas." She explained softly, her smile remaining small and kind, though she couldn't suppress the distress she felt at the topic, the hysteria that had rippled through the family...

Eliana recalled the incident that Oberyn had told of her as well as Willas himself; a tourney accident. "Oberyn sincerely regrets having maimed Willas, he told me enough times while I was in Dorne... I think he was trying to remain on my good side before I would travel to Highgarden but there's no animosity between them - they're very fond of one another, strangely. It's only your father who has a distaste for the Viper, if I recall?" Eliana replied as Margaery nodded in disdain which made her laugh. "And what of Oberyn? Has he..."

Rolling her eyes, Margaery shrugged as she straightened herself in her chair before rising to walk around, wanting to stretch her legs after being sat down for so long. "Oberyn... in all honesty, I don't know where Oberyn is." Margaery paused as she moved to pour herself a glass of water. "You see, he stormed off in a fit of rage after spending a long while pacing around your bedside." Eliana looked down, a small frown appear on her face. "I might be wrong but I think perhaps he blames himself for not having found you sooner."

Eliana's brow furrowed deeply as she thought on what Margaery had said... it was no one's fault but her own. She'd antagonised Cersei,  _gods_ , she'd tried to strangle the woman - as if she didn't deserve being slashed? She had it coming to her sooner or later but what Margaery had said intrigued her. "You said Tyrion's been arrested again?" Margaery nodded and Eliana rolled her eyes, running a hand across her face. "Not again... when will that blasted woman learn?"

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Margaery turned to face Eliana before wandering back towards the bed. "Never, apparently." She agreed softly, her eyes remaining trained upon the Northerner as she fidgeted in the bed. "Tywin's up in arm's over it; he's enraged."

Her comment also piqued Eliana's interest further, sitting forward, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why would he be enraged over Tyrion? He's always going on about how he shames his family, how he's a stain upon the family... doesn't it seem- "

Margaery scoffed as she returned to her chair, "No, no not over him,  _over you_." She informed as Eliana transitioned from frowning to appear shocked by what she was hearing. "Over the lengths she went to bring you pain,  _over that_." Margaery gestured to her wound with considerable distaste as she sat down, crossing her leg as Eliana continued to stare wide-eyed at her.

 _Tywin's angry because of Cersei's actions against me? Not the threat I posed on her own life by trying to strangle her?_ She couldn't ignore the disturbance she felt at the ideology that Tywin cared for her well-being, it was a disconcerting revelation to say the least and it didn't sit well with her at all. Sighing, Eliana ran a hand through her hair before she spoke again, grasping the fact that she had fully enticed the Mighty Lion. She'd succeeded. "It's nothing I didn't deserve... in my opinion, I got off lightly." Eliana replied, her voice steady but not as fluent as she hoped it would be.

"It could have been much worse, Lia." Margaery reminded, almost scolding her in a way she expected her mother would have done if she'd been there as well.

Eliana bristled at her words. "I deserved more than what I got!" Her exclamation made Margaery jump in her chair at its sudden arrival, though Eliana never meant to do that, and she regretted it immediately upon shouting. "Forgive me... I didn't mean to shout at you, it's just- no one should be blessed with this much luck, I should be dead. I deserve death for all I've done, all the wrongs I've orchestrated... I'm tainted and I've done nothing but cause people pain." Eliana spoke, letting a deep sigh of exhaustion pass her lips as she met Margaery's gaze. "Why should I live when someone else deserves to more than I?"

Margaery knew she was referring to both her father and brother, she also knew Eliana blamed herself for both of their passings... that she'd been there but had been futile to intervene and save them from their fates. She didn't know how to reply to what she'd said, so Margaery sat quietly and folded her hands in her lap.

"I failed them and I will never see them again..." Eliana breathed as she drew in a deep breath, biting her lip as she attempted to suppress the anger she could feel twisting within her. "All I did was stand there and watch, frozen to my place... I talk a good game, but when it comes down to what matters, I let it slip through my fingers all the time." Clenching her fists until they bleached ghostly-white, Eliana stared deadpan in front of her into nothing until Margaery reached forward to and took hold of her hands in her own.

Margaery held her hand tightly as she stared at her, slightly shocked at the rant that had fled her mouth so simply. "You must remain strong if you are to prevail." She tried to will her friend, her own hands shaking as she held onto hers with a firm grasp.

Eliana scoffed and retrieved her hands from Margaery's as she returned to staring forward darkly. "I tried for my father, and he lost his head. I did for my brother, and look where that got him." She breathed in disdain before she glanced over to meet Margaery's gaze. " _Beheaded. Both of them._ "

"Lia, please- "

"I just can't help but feel so angry all the time... this- this rage fizzling away in the back of my mind all day,  _every day.._." Eliana cut herself off immediately as she retained the anger threatening to burst from within her. "I just can't help but think what if after everything I've been through, everything I've struggled through, something's gone wrong... within me. What if I'm becoming befouled because of all the horrors I've been exposed to? That if I endeavour to save anyone else, they'll just die anyway."

Margaery stared at her, lost for words to say, not knowing how to comfort her or dissuade her from her anger. "You need to listen to me," Margaery demanded sternly, her hands moving to grip Eliana's own once again, clasping them before she could move them away from her reach. "You're not a bad person; you're a very good person from what I've seen of you... just- just at a loss because many bad things have happened to you. We all have that darkness inside of us... but what matters is the part we choose to act on. That's who we are,  _that's what makes us who we are_." She concluded softly, her words convincing enough to keep Eliana's attention trained upon her. " _You_  taught me that...  _your father_  taught you that."

It was Eliana's turn to remain silent.

"You did everything you could to save them; it's not your fault." Margaery willed her as Eliana glanced away, her eyes dark yet sombre. "You were forced to make vows you wouldn't be able to keep..."

Looking over at her again, Eliana shook her head. "But I agreed. I tried so hard to help them, and all it's done is made things worse... It doesn't matter anymore, because I don't want to play this fucking game anymore. All it does is make you care  _too_  much." Pausing briefly, Eliana sighed in defeat as Margaery continued to listen. "The more you care, the more you have to lose. I've lost too much already... I'm not prepared to lose anything else."

Margaery bowed her head and kept quiet.

"I can't lose anything else."

Her grip tightening on her hand, Margaery held her gaze. "You won't."

Eliana nodded and glanced around the chamber once more, frowning as she took in the interior, noting the green and gold shades, along with pale blues and other pastel shades. "Where are we?" Eliana questioned as she couldn't to survey the room with a calculated glance.

"We're in my chambers." Margaery announced as Eliana round on her, her brow incredulous as she stared at her. "It was the nearest room, honestly it was..." She trailed off when Eliana's brow rose higher than Margaery thought possible which made her give a sigh of defeat. Shaking her head, Margaery propped her hand under her chin as she sat forward in her chair. "No, in all fairness, it wasn't but it was my fault you got in such a state - I should never have left you, I had to see you were all right." Margaery explained whilst Eliana's eyes moved to widen in sudden realisation.

Rigidly, she folded her hands over her chest and clenched her jaw shut tautly, her eyes narrowing slowly by the second as her realisation shifted into worry. "Where have you been sleeping?" Margaery didn't answer her which made her concern expand further, her arms slackened as did her brow. "You haven't slept haven't you... You gave up your bed for me?" Eliana spoke quietly, her own bewilderment becoming exposed in that moment as she held Margaery's gaze.

"It wouldn't be the first time."

Holding her gaze, Margaery stared at Eliana as she allowed a small smile to grace her lips, her hand tightening around Eliana's as she recalled her visit to Highgarden, and how she'd been afraid to approach the Northerner for a time... until she'd gotten the courage to converse with her, and soon realising there was nothing to have been afraid of in the first place.

* * *

Laughter drifted through the air softly as Garlan glowered at the woman prancing before him as she withdrew her blade and flashed a smile, inspecting her teeth. Garlan rolled his eyes, " _Do you know how to use that sword or is it all for show?_ " He taunted, crossing his arms over his sparring attire, his smirk growing as Eliana met his gaze with a snort.

" _Wouldn't you like to know, pretty man._ "

" _Pretty man?_ " Garlan scoffed, his own hand trailing to the hilt of sword, knowing that Eliana could send a blow his way at any given time if she was to live up to her reputation. " _Is that meant to insult me, Stark?_ "

Eliana shrugged, moving to wander around Garlan as her smirk transitioned into a wolfish grin. " _I don't like my men pretty, Tyrell; I like my men deadly._ " She replied sweetly as poked at his honey-like curls and let out another snort. " _You even have a woman's hair..._ "

Swatting her hand away, Garlan rolled his eyes once more. " _Perhaps you should learn to appreciate the finer things in life._ " He announced with a sharp flash of teeth.

" _When you discover some, will you let me know?_ " Her grip tightened on her blade as she tested Garlan, wanting to know how easily she could get under his skin and successfully annoy him, annoy him to goad him into sparring with her.

" _You're a funny one or at least you think you are..._ "

Eliana broke out into another wide grin, and drew her blade properly as she held it before her in invitation to the Tyrell, who stood head to toe in various shades of green, as his eyes narrowed. " _Oh, on the contrary,_  I'm know it." She grinned.

Garlan stared at her, shaking his head in disbelief, her eyes shining in amusement as he regarded the wolf before him.

Backing away from Garlan, she turned and raised her sword in greeting. " _All right, pretty man, attack me._ " Eliana spoke loudly, bowing mockingly to taunt Garlan into doing what she wanted.

"Attack you?" Garlan looked as though Eliana had just suggested they rebel against the crown and take the throne for themselves.

Sighing, Eliana's gaze went skyward, her shoulders slumping in disappointment at his questioning. " _Yes,_ " Eliana said, with the air of one who had undergone many years of suffering and deprivation of getting what they wanted from life. " _Attack me. Now,_ " She ordered.

Garlan hesitated.

" _Come on now, your grandmother's watching,_ " Eliana teased lightly as she sent the Lady Olenna a warm smile. " _You wouldn't want to let her down by diminishing the existence of your pride, would you?_ "

" _You are mad-_  "

Eliana smirked as she probed his armour with her sword, enough to make Garlan swat her sword away once again. " _And you are craven, Ser. Garlan the Gallant, you're named by many and yet here you stand, unwilling to hit a woman grown._ " Eliana stifled her laughter as she saw his jaw clench in the agitation of her spoken words, his fists clenching tightly, taut enough to turn them a ghostly-white. "Pity."

It worked, and Garlan drew his sword from its sheath and charged.

He had no idea how it happened, it was so fast, but the next thing he knew his wrist was stinging from the smack of the broad of Eliana's blade, Garlan was cursing as he knelt, his sword lying upon the ground beside him. " _Gods, you're oafish and slow... and I thought you Southern lot were s'posed to be good at sword play; you're always gloating about it._ " Eliana said, without any hesitation over the slang. " _Pick it up, let's go again._ "

As Garlan went to grasp his sword, Eliana lifted her own sword over her hand before striking him again. The man on the ground took the blow with a dull thud and let out a loud shout of "pain".

Eliana laughed at the sound before she offered her hand to him. " _Garlan, you can stop screaming now. Just note, if I weren't feeling kind, you'd be dead._ " Grasping his sword, Garlan accepted her hand as she helped him to his feet with a warm grin. " _You need to work on you lead foot before you even consider your attack... you're steps are too small, you see, and that means your over compensating on your knee._ " Eliana explained as he straightened out his armour, ignoring the smirk that was plastered across his grandmother's face.

Scowling at Eliana, Garlan folding his arms once more as he stared at the woman, hoping his height would intimidate himself. " _I can assure you I'm not oafish or slow, my lady._ " Garlan replied to her earlier statement as Eliana chuckled at his response. "You're arrogant, aren't you?  _Strange for a Northerner._ " He added quickly as her eyebrow rose in question.

Amused by the Tyrell, Eliana stared up at him, holding his gaze well which she knew wasn't what he expected. " _Well, I do always consider myself to be rarity, Garlan. Have I lived up to your expectations?_ " Eliana taunted with another wide smile that she knew the Tyrell was growing to detest with each appearance.

" _Barely._ "

Eliana placed her hand over his chest and let her mouth fall agape in pretend hurt at his reply. " _I am hurt you would say such a thing. Have you no honour or respect for a lady at least?_ " Eliana tested as she saw Garlan grit his teeth.

Failing to stifle the laugh, Garlan let it free before he spoke. "You're a lady?" He questioned as Eliana genuinely smiled at his question. " _And here I am, thinking you were a wild little beast coming out to play._ "

Eliana had to admit she was warming to the Tyrell and his playful nature. " _And what a game it will be._ " Eliana concluded in amusement as she took her sword into her hand properly, turning and moving around him as her eyes caught a glimpse of Garlan's other siblings that had gathered around their grandmother to watch the sparring session. " _We have an audience... let's hope you can maintain your dignity._ "

Following her gaze, Garlan groaned and rolled his eyes. " _Oh by the gods..._ "

" _This will be fun indeed._ " Eliana proclaimed as she twisted around the face her taller opponent once again. " _Right, attack me again. Now,_ " She instructed. Garlan took a measured step but Eliana sprung into action and immediately began deflecting, parrying, and moving around to the point where Garlan became disorientated and muddle and was thrown forward from the momentum of her attacks.

Once again, Eliana offered her hand despite Garlan not needing it, he took it. Once on his feet, Eliana let go of him and assumed her fighting position and asked Garlan to attack her once more.

The young knight's frustration increased as he lunged forward with a large step but was defected. However with the greater centre of gravity, Garlan was able to deliver more attacks until he finally bested Eliana to the point where she was almost unarmed by him. Eliana recovered from the attack, and assumed a stance that was less guarded as she smiled. She also knew that Garlan noticed that she wouldn't be as good at fighting him in that stance, but nonetheless, he attack her on the left side which forced Eliana to go against her natural positions that she would use to defect attacks. Garlan retreated ever-so-slightly so he was able to re-adjust his stance and grip upon his sword.

Eliana attacked then, and Garlan successfully sensed it and deflected, before he was able to twist the sword in a parry which enabled him to disarm the She-Wolf of Winterfell. The sword dropped and their audience grew silent as they stared at their relative with surprised gazes whilst the foreigner clapped him on the back in congratulations. " _You're not hopeless after all._ "

" _Did you let me win?_ " Garlan blurted.

Reaching for her sword, Eliana let out a deep sigh and bit the side of her cheek. " _I wanted you to retain some of your dignity; yes, I let you win._ " She confirmed quietly so that they wouldn't hear.

Garlan smiled at her unexpectedly, " _You are nice after all._ "

That made her laugh good-naturedly. " _I did tell you that you'd grow to like me, didn't I?_ " Eliana teased, her eyes shining in bemusement as she turned to look over at the Tyrells that had fathered. " _Ah, your younger brother... Loras, is it?_ " Garlan nodded. " _Do you s'pose he would care to join us in our little game?_ "

He shrugged at his opponent, " _You could always ask, my lady._ " He offered with a smirk, amused that she didn't realise what she was letting herself in for... his brother was reowned for his skill with a sword.

Eliana smiled briefly, " _Fair point, Ser._ " She noted before turning to face where Loras stood with his grandmother and other siblings. " _Loras, do be a dear, and come to your brother's aid! He can only seem to win when I purposely change my stance - help him retain his dignity._ " Eliana bellowed over at the group of Tyrells as she noted a chuckle leave Willas whilst Olenna remained looking amused at the entertainment on offer for that afternoon. " _I shall feel awfully dejected if I am to rob him of what little dignity remains._ "

Nudging her in the ribs, Garlan scoffed whilst he saw Loras quickly adorning some light armour for the sparring. " _I need assistance do I?_ "

" _Aye,_ " Eliana gave a nod of her head, delivering a swift stamp to his foot which made him such in a sharp gasp. " _You do, as I said, you're slow._ "

Garlan watched as his brother striding towards them, taking a sparring sword into his hand as he did, before he glanced at Eliana. " _Gods, you are arrogant... and I thought Ned Stark raised you better._ " His comment only sufficed in making her faint smile widen.

" _My father raised me fine. Aye, I'm a bit rough round the edges but who isn't?_ " Eliana probed, tilting her head at Garlan as she saw his features soften. " _You think I'm arrogant? I prefer opinionated or haughty..._ even proud." She offered as Garlan also smiled, finding that he was liking her more and more despite how much he wanted to prevet himself from doing so.

Loras approached them, " _How about egotistical?_ " He added as Eliana grinned at him.

" _A fancy word for a fancy man._ " Eliana spoke in greeting, Loras offering her a smile at her swift reply. Looking back at Garlan, she narrowed her gaze at him. " _But do you know what, Garlan?_ " questioned Eliana as both brothers shared a glance between them.

" _What?_ "

" _Fuck my pride._ " Eliana breathed with a sigh as she wandered around the pair of them, as if she was contemplating something of extreme importance. " _That doesn't matter here. You don't know me and I don't know you..._ " She trailed off as both brothers nodded in agreement with what she was saying to them. " _So no judgements?_ "

Both nodding, they responded in unison. " _No judgements._ "

" _Good._ " Eliana grinned at the pair. " _Right, two Tyrell lads against a Stark girl... this should be interesting._ " She announced raising her sword to them both as she regained her stance. " _It might be exhausting for you, but it'll be fun for me._ " She gestured for them to run at her, and both hesitated.

Running at Eliana, the Tyrell brothers chose to use a strategy they found to be exceedingly beneficial to besting others. Garlan swung, Eliana blocked his attack and the ringing of the blades was loud in the hushed, serene gardens where they fought. When Loras came at her from the other side, Eliana's blade went up to block his as she leg-swept Garlan at the same time, bringing him crashing to the ground.

" _You're not as clever as you think you are boys,_ " Eliana announced to them. " _I have four brothers of my own; I came face-to-face with that trick long before you tried it out on me._ "

" _Son of a whore!_ " Garlan yelled, his grandmother clapping at the sight that had unfolded before her whilst Loras scrambled out of the way before Eliana could reach for him again.

" _Watch your mouth,_ " Eliana chastised Garlan, before smirking in amusement. " _That's my mother you're talking about, and besides I'm female, Ser._ "

" _This isn't fair..._ " Loras breathed. " _Do you have some superior wolf strength or something?_ "

Eliana laughed. " _It's not about strength,_ " She said, holding her hand out to Garlan, who grasped his wrist and allowed himself to be pulled up. " _It's about speed as well and also precision... and you two are sloppy. Gods, my master at arms in Winterfell would be appalled if he saw the way you both attack._ " At her words, Loras frowned.

" _Thank you, you beast of a woman,_ " Garlan said. " _I'm not going to fight like an animal, thank you very much._ "

Eliana met Garlan's scowl with one of her own.

" _We appreciate this fine test, we do,_ " Loras interrupted, smiling as he glanced over at his brother.

Eliana nodded slowly as she set her sword in the ground, her brows rising as she regarded the pair. " _Perhaps you should try fighting one another. I'll observe, and correct your technique._ "

" _You'll correct our_  'technique'?" Garlan repeated, glancing over at her.

" _That's what I said, didn't I?_ "

Moving into the ready stance, Loras grinned at Garlan. " _Hope you enjoy having your arse thrown to the ground by your younger and more handsome brother, Garlan the Gallant._ "

" _In your dreams, Ser Daisy._ "

They ran at one another, parry and thrust, blades clanging against one another.

Garlan hooked his ankle around Loras's, trying to bring him down. Loras dropped his blade, grabbed Garlan's arm and twisted, making him let go of his blade as well as the both ended up on their knees until Garlan pinned his brother swiftly. " _Surrender,_ " Garlan muttered.

" _Screw you,_ " said Loras, his face pressed against the grass.

" _What are you pair of pansies doing?_ "

They paused in their wrestling. Loras looked up to see the Northerner glowering down at them like a disapproving glance. " _It's called_  'wrestling,'  _She-Wolf... you don't do it up North? Surprising, it seems right up your alley. You never know, it might help you learn a few-_  "

Eliana rolled her eyes, " _Yes, I know what wrestling is, but you're both too soft and besides, I thought we were sparring,_ " Eliana complained lightly, rolling her eyes as she ran a hand through her braid. " _You're very annoying, Ser Daisy._ "

" _So I've been told._ " Loras smirked, as Garlan released him.

" _Now, could we get back to wor-_ " Eliana's words cut off into a startled grunt when Garlan's hand shot out, his fingers closing around Eliana's ankle.

Witnessing the expression on Eliana's face when she landed on her back, Loras couldn't help it, he started laughing whilst Margaery let out a sharp gasp of sudden panic. " _You were right, Eliana,_ " Loras called in amusement. " _It's not just about strength._ "

Garlan waited until Eliana was crouching, catching her breath, before he leapt at her. Again it was probably only the element of surprise that allowed Garlan to take Eliana down. " _Garlan Tyrell!_ " He could hear his grandmother shouting along with his elder brother, though he ignored them all the same and continued. With a minimum of struggle, he caught Eliana in a double-armed pin.

" _Garlan,_ " Eliana spoke, her face against the grass and his voice frighteningly level.

"Y _es, my dear She-Wolf?_ "

" _Don't make me hurt you,_ " She said.

Anyone else, and Loras would know that was posturing and teasing. Not in this case - Eliana literally meant it. He was pretty sure she could push his brother off without too much force. The problem was Eliana, who wouldn't give up easily. If Garlan kept on pushing, the Northerner's reaction couldn't be anticipated.

" _Garlan,_ " Loras said. He sighed. " _Let her up._ "

Garlan rolled off and got to his feet, brushing the dead leaves from himself as he watched Eliana as she laid frowning on the ground. " _What is it?_ " He pressed as he saw no gloating in her expression.

" _I think you may have dislocated my shoulder..._ " Eliana told him as his eyes widened, and he immediately went to offer his aid.

After helping her to her feet, Garlan went about ridding her of the dead leaves. It didn't seem to bother Eliana when Garlan reached out and picked dead leaves off of her. However, when he went to reach for the ones polluting her hair, he hadn't anticipated the movement of her hand.

A strong hand flew out and latched on his forearm with a deadly grip that made Garlan freeze.

Looking to his brother for help Loras shook his head as he was barely able to contain his laughter. " _Does it hurt?_ " He asked, trying to look at Eliana by dipping his head forward.

" _Not at the moment,_ " She offered as he sighed loudly, reaching forward to take a hold of the injured arm with more force that necessary. Eliana grimaced and gritted her teeth at the jolt of her shoulder, biting her tongue to stop herself from making a noise in pain.

" _I could try and pop it back in for you?_ " He offered with a shrug of his shoulders.

" _As much as I appreciate the offer, I'd rather a Maester did it, in case you fuck my shoulder up even more,_ " Eliana ground out, her eyes hardening like the steel of their swords as she watched him.

Garlan rolled his eyes, " _You realise it probably would have happened anyway,_ "

Eliana pursed her lips in annoyance but nodded. " _Fine._ "

" _What?_ " both Loras and Garlan questioned together, both startled that she would let him do such a thing.

" _Do it._ "

Garlan didn't wait for any further instructions before he placed his hand on her sore shoulder. " _Right, after three. One... two... three..._ " Garlan counted as he forced the bone upwards with a brute forward and a loud crack was heard which made Loras wince.

The effect was immediate as the tenseness and the ache became heightened suddenly, both bone and muscles screaming as she let out a sigh, but not of pain, instead out of content. She looked back at Garlan, as he stepped back from her and bowed his head whilst Loras continued to snicker. " _Thanks... I think._ "

" _I am sorry though,_ " Garlan muttered and Eliana flicked his eyes back to his, her eyebrow rose and she surveyed him briefly before coming to her conclusion.

Eliana tackled him around the knees and sent him sprawling forward. Due to the unforeseen attack, he was given no choice but to fall forward until his face was in the dirt and he got a mouthful of dead leaves. She flipped him over onto his back as she straddled him, her eyes remaining dark as she stared at him whilst she reeled back her fist in warning. " _Don't do it again, or I'll blacken your eye._ "

Willas let out a low chuckle whilst Loras's light laughter floating around them, however the women in their company didn't share their amusement. " _Is she all right?_ " Willas glanced over at his grandmother and offered her a smile. " _If he has any dignity left, I'm the bloody Queen._ "

" _I believe so, grandmother_." Willas replied as she saw their guest helping his brother to his feet. " _But I doubt Garlan will ever try that again... You like her._ " He added as he saw Margaery with her gaze glued to the spectacle before them, her attention having not wavered for quite some time.

Margaery, looking over at her eldest brother, sighed softly. " _She's very spirited, and passionate... she's so unlike the others girl here, Willas. It's... odd but also a relief, it means she's not boring._ " She answered with ease which made her brother smile.

" _Have you spoken with her yet?_ " Olenna pressed, raising a brow in question.

" _No... what do I say to a Northerner?_ " Margaery admitted, knowing it was silly but it was true. She knew the Northerner's were much like them but also so different... how did she approach someone from up there? They were known for their violent attitudes and temperamental anger. " _How do I speak with a Northerner... I know nothing of how to approach them._ "

Willas placed a reassuring hand on her back and rubbed, " _With caution, sweet sister, especially Lady Eliana's type. She's fiery which means she's spry but also light-hearted._ " He advised, sensing Margaery's concern but fully understanding it's existence. There could be animosity for the Battle of Ashford during the rebellion seeing as it was Robert's only defeat, but Willas knew nothing of the sort existed.

Looking over at Olenna, Margaery bit her cheek. " _And how did you find her?_ "

At the question, Olenna sat forward in her chair and smiled as she glanced over at the group that had continued with their sword play. " _I found her pleasant enough; she is, in my opinion, very civil and open, easy-going, if you will. But she seems..._ " She trailed off in thought, her eyes narrowing as she evaluated the Stark girl carefully before coming to answer. " _Purposeful._ "

" _What do you mean?_ "

" _She's very well educated, from what I can tell but that doesn't mean she doesn't have any ambitions or vocation to be here._ " Olenna asserted cautiously, which made Margaery's concern rise.

" _So..._ " She begun in thought before looking to Willas unexpectedly. " _She's like you then?_ "

Willas flashed a smile. " _I suppose she is._ " He agreed with a nod.

Margaery's confidence rose suddenly as she lifted herself from her chair with a wide smile of her own. " _Then she'll like me. In fact, I'd even wager she'll love me._ " She confirmed to the pair of them, clasping her hands together in what she thought was her victory of the Stark. She would gain her favour, and they would become instant friends.

" _Margaery, you can't assume-_  " Willas attempted to talk some sense into his sister but she cut him off.

Rolling her eyes, the young rose scoffed at her brother's worry for her safety, having been acquainted with the lengths she often strove to get what she wanted from others. " _You regard me as such, why won't she?_ " Margaery countered.

" _She's a Stark._ " Olenna reminded before adding, " _But if she's anything like her father, you'll value her friendship should you gain it. She'd be a wonderful ally to have should we have need of her._ "

" _What will a wolf do?_ " She brushed off with another smile, her eyes gliding to the woman she was speaking of as she saw her disarm Loras once more.

Willas gave an exasperated sigh of irritation as he also rose from his, the walking stick supporting his sudden movements as he tried to make her listen to what he was saying, as he tried to reason with her the weariness she should have when approaching someone as fiery as a Stark. " _Margaery she's dangerous; she's a foreigner here, you can't anticipate her because we share the same attributes._ " He counselled softly, his hand going to his forearm as he spoke tenderly.

Margaery placed her hand atop his, " _You forget, dear brother, we're roses; we have thorns._ " Margaery mused with a playful glint in her gaze whilst Olenna chuckled at her stubbornness.

* * *

Margaery smiled at the memory as she glanced away, her brow furrowed at how foolish she'd been back then, back before she understood how to play the game. "I used be scared of you, you know." She announced to Eliana, who looked at her with a semi-shocked glance which was then accompanied with faint amusement at her sudden admission.

" _Scared of me?_ " Eliana questioned, raising an eyebrow at her before smiling. She wasn't used to that; she didn't like knowing that people she, herself, liked were scared of her... she didn't revel in knowing that, it wasn't comforting nor was it welcomed. It made her feel like Cersei, and the mere thought of the resemblance made her shudder. "That makes me sound like some sort of ferocious beast or something... Why?"

Margaery shrugged absentmindedly, "You're a Northerner... in the Reach, we're not used to having guests from that far North." She explained as she contemplated it herself, knowing how silly it sounded when she said it aloud but that was honestly how she felt once and her brother's encouragements did little to suppress the feeling. "I didn't know how to talk to you because I'd never met anyone from there before."

Eliana let out a soft chuckle whilst Margaery's eyes widened in realisation.

" _You knew?_ "

Nodding, Eliana sent her a sympathetic glance. "Olenna told me... It was quite amusing to be honest with you, to know you were fussing over how to speak to me. I never regarded myself as scary..." She told Margaery, her eyes soft as a small smile graced her lips. Sensing a change in subject, Eliana looked to the book that had been discarded upon the bed beside her, she frowned as she took it into her hands. " _Florian and Jonquil?_  Who were you reading this to?" She questioned her friend with amused interest.

"Obara."

The answer surprised Eliana if she was honest with herself. She knew the tale wouldn't appeal to Obara in the slightest, but to know that the girl had asked for it to be read to her was unexpected. "I take it she wasn't impressed?" Eliana assumed as she flicked through the pages aimlessly.

Margaery smiled again. "No, she wasn't."

Setting the book aside, Eliana sighed and immediately made to move out of the bed but the bandage wrapped tautly around her middle prevented her from doing so. "What the in Seven hells is this for?" She questioned as she strove to exit the bed, ignoring the pain that shot along her side furiously. Her eyes narrowed when she caught the empty vial of the milk of the Poppy on the night stand beside the bed. "Piece of shite, like it helps."

"Lia," Margaery begun whilst she tried to suppress a laugh at her comment, observing as she managed to remove herself from the bed to stand. "You ought not to leave- " Instinctively, Margaery moved to support her but Shadow appeared from his place at the other side of his mistress, baring its teeth at the rose which made Margaery step back in caution.

Looking over at the beast, Lia rolled her eyes. Looking over at the wolf, she stared at the direwolf until it tilted its head but retreated, stepping back and slowly settled back down upon the floor, its eyes never leaving Margaery as her hand slipped around Lia's waist to support her as she stood. "He doesn't trust you..."

Frowning, Margaery sighed as she waited for Lia to retain her balance. "I wonder why..." She commented before wrapping her arms around her friend fiercely, so tightly that Eliana sucked in a deep breath but chuckled nonetheless at Margaery's enthusiasm to aid her.

"Perhaps I've made a terrible mistake of judgement..." Eliana spoke, pulling away from Margaery's embrace to carefully study her as she saw the flicker of mystery become momentarily evident in her gaze. "I mean you Southern lot do love to name us Northerners _stinking barbarians_ , do you not?" She pressed, seeing Margaery smile softly at her at her usual of the commons views of the Northerners.

Margaery's eyes softened considerably at Eliana,  _never..._ she thought immediately as she regarded her, she could never think that of her...  _never_. "You don't look like a barbarian to me, Lia." Margaery noted quietly, her eyes trained upon the bandaged wound on her front as she found she couldn't look away, her eyes fixed upon the wound as she spoke.

"That's because you've never met a  _stinking barbarian_ before." Catching her stare, she winced and noted that being exposed to the wound quite clearly bothered her. "If it bothers you- " Eliana reached for a robe to wrap herself in to shield her from the burden of having to pity her but surprisingly, Margaery grabbed her hand to stop her.

"It doesn't..." She took the robe away from her and went to retrieve a tunic that had been thrown aside on the back of a chair, before turning to face her again, that smile of her still etched out on her lips. "You don't need to cover it, it's nothing I haven't seen." She assured her warmly as Eliana frowned at her sudden movement to stop her, not understanding why she would want to stare... "Anyway, you're not bearded nor are you as grim looking as they say..."

Rolling her eyes, Eliana stifled a laugh as Margaery helped her with the tunic, apologising profusely when she winced in pain as she guided her arms through the sleeves.  _You should have met my father if you wanted a grim northerner, before the end..._ "That's because we look the same, you and I, but our intentions however... can very." She asserted with a grim line crossing her face as Margaery then insisted lacing up the piece of clothing.

Margaery scoffed, "I doubt that."

"Do you?"

The Tyrell nodded vigorously, "All I've witnessed of you has been of eminence, reticence, justice- "

"Cowardice." Eliana interrupted with a dark glance as she moved towards her desk, taking a piece of parchment and then reaching for a quill to write with. "Do you mind?" Margaery shook her head and merely watched as Eliana began to write frantically across the parchment, wincing every so often.

Margaery ignored her interruption pleasantly and continued, "Percipience and diligence, I think." She added quickly as Eliana stared at her, her interest piqued with the compliments she'd received so easily from a woman that barely knew anything of her anymore despite how much she would barter she  _thought_  she knew.

Eliana rolled her eyes at the sensation of being complimented.  _Flattery? Flattery never was my strong suit, and I don't like being subjected to it either..._  "Enough with the  _'ences'_ , if you want to be a poet, go elsewhere." She let out in minor annoyance of being named such things. "Margaery, why are you here?  _Why did you stay?_ " That bothered her the most. Why had she stayed beside when she wasn't expected to? Margaery owed nothing to Eliana, she had no duty to fulfill and neither did she belong at her beside.  _That_  was Oberyn's duty.

"I wanted to speak with you..." Margaery trailed off as she looked down momentarily, clearing her throat. "About some important matters."

"Aye, that may be the case but all you've succeeded in doing has been flattering me...  _why are you here?_ "

Margaery closed her eyes but relented. "Have you ever considered- " She stopped herself as the words became lost on her tongue. She couldn't say it. She couldn't tell her... she c _ouldn't_.

"Go on." Eliana promoted, moving around the desk as she pocketed the parchment.

Shaking her head, Margaery pursed her lips. "No, it's silly really, foolish- " She rambled on until Eliana put an end to it, knowing that it was obviously something she wanted to say desperately but didn't know how to exactly.

"I insist. I'll decide how  _silly_  it is once I hear it. Go on." Despite installing her with encouragement, she remained silent and Eliana frowned in disappointment and worry that it was  _that_  grave that Margaery didn't feel comfortable sharing it with her. Sighing, Eliana nodded in understanding of her refusal. "Margaery if you're not going to tell me, I must find Jaime." She took her scabbard into her hand and tied it around her waist, securing the sword at her side, knowing she would undoubtedly need it if the Keep had caught word of the incident.

Starting forwards, Margaery grabbed her arm firmly. "But we've barely spoken." She argued, reminding Eliana of a petulant child in that moment.

"Margaery, what's gotten..." She trailed off whilst her eyes widened in sudden realisation for her acting that way.  _No... was she?_  "Are you jealous?" Eliana questioned as Margaery winced at the word that had been used, confirming her assumption.

Margaery ran a hand through her loose curls, her annoyance becoming evident. "We hardly speak anymore; you used to write to me all the time when you returned to Winterfell, and you even wrote me some during the war but now, now you barely even acknowledge me at all." She ranted and complained very much like Eliana would expected her young son would do so in a few years from then. But Margaery was a grown woman, and her reaction was slightly surprising to behold. "I matter as well, you know." Margaery blurted, shocking herself as well as Eliana, who turned around to face her.

Sighing, Eliana nodded in agreement, knowing there was no point in disagreeing with a statement she knew was true to her. Perhaps that's what happened one if you were a Tyrell... that you were everyone's priority. "Well, by all means, come along." She offered her arm towards the future queen whilst slight dismay began to brew within her mind.

* * *

Cersei had not felt so afraid since she was a child.

When she had informed that her father had summoned her to his private quarters, she felt her blood run cold at the command. He knew about what she'd done... he knew about her trying to get her own way. He knew everything... but how? Has the Stark bitch gone to him and told him everything? She doubted that was the case with what had happened to her - she didn't even know if she was alive after the blow she dealt her. Had Meryn told him? She shook her head at the thought and dismissed it; the Kingsguard didn't have the balls to go against her and rat her out to her father. The only person who would do such a thing had been in the black cells for little over a day...

Approaching the door to his quarters, Cersei paused as the guard knocked on the formidable oak door, the sound echoing through the deserted hall to bounce off the stone walls. "Yes?" Her father's voice was hard and stern from what she could, the rage silent and having being suppressed - having been suppressed until her arrival at his quarters.

"It's the Queen Regent, My Lord Hand."

That was it. Upon hearing the announcement of her arrival, his voice changed immediately, it's depth and tone decreasing to rumble a growl. Cersei could hear the rage weaving through it, she could feel the anger in his reply, making the hairs of the back her neck stand on edge at the mere sound of it.

"Send her in."

The guard hauled open the door and held it open for her enter his solar. She did so tentatively, with all the caution and serenity she could muster within, clasping her hand together as she did. Striding through the door, she was met by his back as he stood with his hands held tightly within one another. Even though he was fifty and seven, he was still as formidable as he'd always been...

The door shut behind the guards that her father had dismissed with nothing more than a word, and she knew she could not show him  _any_  fear. She wouldn't show him any fear after how many times he's ruined her life for the sake of their legacy and his pride... she would never forgive him, never since he deprived her of Rhaegar.

* * *

If her father hadn't resigned his position as Hand of the King, and if he hadn't returned home to their Rock to sulk like she or Jaime would do when they were denied their own way... and if they had attended Lord Whent's tourney at Harrenhal like everyone else...

Cersei was certain that she would have been the one to catch Rhaegar's eye rather than that northern beast, Lyanna Stark if they had attended the event. She couldn't help but think it would have been her Rhaegar would have abandoned his wife; her he carried off to their secret getaway. Many nobles lords and ladies said that Lyanna Stark was a fair enough maiden in comparison to the Dornish princess, Elia. But... a wolf was nothing compared to a lion. If Cersei had attended Harrenhal like she longed to do, it would have been her beauty that would have bewitched Prince Rhaegar and captured his heart.

Her father had grown cold and distant ever since his dispute with Aerys, and it was rare she ever saw him apart from her twin brother, but when he did fix his gaze on her as coldly as he could, she felt like dying on the spot with each blink. She felt like a foolish servant, forcibly subjected to his silent torment. She was his failure... after all those years she had been by his side with him, trying to capture and captivate Rhaegar's attention, all those chances gone to waste. Bitterly wasted.

Her mother, the Lady Joanna, had managed to capture King Aerys's attention without even trying - it hadn't even been her intention to do so. When Cersei had first heard of the Mad King's attraction to her late mother, she had wondered extensively why her mother hadn't seized the opportunity to make herself Aery's queen... she was sure to never mention it in front of her lord father, though, her loyalty to him was paramount.

Naively, Cersei had thought she would've been lucky enough to have been graced with the most handsome man in the realm, and the sweetest singer as her lord husband. But of course... that day never came, and how she had wept when news reached her that Rhaegar had wed Elia Martell of Dorne but then she had dried her worthless tears and reminded herself that Elia lacked her health... there was no telling how long she would last.

But to her surprise, Elia hadn't survive the birth of one, but two babes. How Cersei wished she should have died rather than continue living... she couldn't comprehend how she, Elia had survived when that very same thing had killed her lady mother, Joanna Lannister. Her lady mother had been strong, so strong... but it was all Tyrion's fault. All his fault.

Her father's as well... Tyrion was the monster the Gods had sent to punish her father, to punish them all for her father's mistakes.

Then came the rebellion and Cersei began to entertain herself with girlish daydreams. How she had imagined her lord father putting an end to the rebellion and hopefully regain the Mad King's favour. She had imagined it many at time... Aerys sending Elia and her children away, and ridding the realm of that Northern beast Lyanna before rewarding her father by wedding Rhaegar to herself. She wanted Rhaegar, and she would have Rhaegar. She knew he would be sad at first, but she knew she would quickly win him over and soon enough, he would be madly in love with her.

She had not been surprised when word reached the Rock that her father had sacked the capital not long after the rebel's victory on the Trident, and her one chance at being truly happy had been snatched from her. She had deduced his sacking of the city due to having been robbed of his heir to the Rock... and her father would never forget that, she knew. But it was her fault for her brother taking his position in the Kingsguard. So he was to punish her to.

She did become queen. But she had not gotten what she wanted - Robert was no Rhaegar. Her father had gotten what he wanted; she was Queen. She had thought of her father's smug face on her wedding night after Robert had done what little he could do her, having dried her angry tears because Robert Baratheon was not the man she wished him to be. Her father had done that to her; he had punished her. But little did he know she'd have the power to confront him soon enough, just not quite yet.

* * *

"Sit down." Tywin didn't look at her, and remained facing his desk. He could feel his anger fizzling within him just as it had done when he first caught wind of the attack she'd waged against the one Stark he'd managed to orchestrate a beneficial alliance with that they were both contentment to agree upon. Finally he turned and saw that his daughter had not moved. " _Now_." His voice was no roar, yet it carried all the power of one.

"I will not." Cersei said firmly, clenching her fists tightly. "I am  _the_  queen, not some child who-"

"You are still my child, and you will sit down when I tell you to do so unless you wish to be assisted in that task." His eyes were fixed on her as hers looked right back at him, the flicker of fear evident within their depths. Tywin gritted his teeth in agitation as he watched her gradually descend into the body of the nearest chair. "I am told that you ambuscaded Eliana Stark."

Cersei presses her lips together, forcing herself to contain her surprise- but of course he knew, he has eyes and ears everywhere. Her blood ran cold, but she refused to look away from him- lions didn't cower, lions didn't flee. Tywin only stared back at his daughter, verdant eyes matching the golden bauble around his neck. It eventually became too much to hold his gaze, and she let her own shift down to fix upon the ground as she clenched her jaw.

She nodded, and her father continued. "And what did you think you would achieve by doing that?"

"Vengeance." Her jaw tightened, and she nearly snarled at him.  _The nerve of him... and I had the audacity to believe he would set it right, that he would put that Northern fool in her place..._

Lord Tywin's voice dropped in volume, only just a bit, so that his words were still and clear. "Perhaps I should give her what she wants. Perhaps I should let her leave whenever she wishes, she's more of value to me than you're proving to be at the moment."

Cersei's chin snapped upward; surely she must have misheard? Her green eyes went wide, her jaw slack, but her father merely blinked back at her as he remained ever still, unmoving. "...What?" Is all she could manage to say.

His tone was still calm, but there was an undeniable menace behind his eyes, a hissing undercurrent in each syllable as he spoke. "You have debased yourself. You've brought shame upon the family seeing as you're clearly incapable of restraining yourself against seeking revenge on those you believe have wronged you." Tywin explained with an unwavering amount of control within his voice. "Perhaps it is best if if I let her leave, before you damage our reputations any further."

Bile rose in her throat as she clenched her hands into taut fists, nails digging deep into the skin of her palm.  _And what of Jaime? He's as responsible as I for any of this... but of course, he's your_ golden  _son, it's much easier to blame me, to cast me as the instigator even though he pushed me to do it..._  Bitter malice pushed at her lips- she wanted to scream and rage, and yet... The sadness seeped in, quiet and insidious as she rose from her chair and crossed behind the desk and stood before her father's chair, shaky breaths leaving her unevenly. "Father..."

Tywin let a vexed sigh pass through his nose as he pinched the bridge of it, containing his growing frustration as he finally regarded his daughter once more. "You tried to kill her." He reminded quietly enough for Cersei to hear the threatening tone within his voice.

Cersei's eyes widened in shock at her father's words, her anger finally getting the better of her. "She tried to kill me! W- what I did... what I did was an act of defence.  _Self defence!_ " She countered furiously, gesturing to her exposed neck in which had acquired a bruise in the shade of a plum, ripe with the imprint of chains.

Little did Cersei know, a dark figure lurked within the corner of the room with his arms folded tightly across his chest as he witnessed the interaction between the father and daughter, his eyes darkening as he finally stepped forth from where he stood in hiding. "You almost killed her." Oberyn announced aloud, his golden robes contrasting with the theme of crimson covering the room in which he lurked in the shadows.

Jolting in astonishment at the sudden addition of another force belonging to someone she didn't even realise had been in the room with them, Cersei turned immediately, casting her gaze upon the Dornishman and narrowed her gaze accusingly, baring her teeth in oppression. "W- what? Why are you here?" Cersei inquired stubbornly as she watched Oberyn's gaze flow past her to meet that of her father's as his renowned smirk returned to its rightfully place upon his lips. "Did  _you_  invite him here?" Cersei bristled as she swung around to stare at her father in mild shock.

Tywin offered Oberyn a glass of wine as he watched the Viper slither around the solar, his daughter's eyes never leaving him, before he willingly accepted the glass. "Of course I did; you tried to kill his wife." Tywin poured himself out of glass but neglected to offer one to his daughter as he brought his own glass to his lips. "He wants some questions answered, as do I."

Cersei was outraged at the pair. Rising from her chair, she drifted towards the pitcher of wine to deal herself a portion of wine but before she could do so, her father removed the pitcher from her sight. "She tried to strangle me." Cersei informed them as the annoyance in her voice could be heard, however, her anger intensified when she caught Oberyn snickering under his breath. "Just ask Ser Meryn..."

"I wouldn't trust my own life with Ser Meryn." Tywin spoke as he settled into his chair, his eyes sharply trained upon his daughter before he let a deep chuckle pass his lips. "You'd be a fool to ever entrust him with yours."

Beside him, Oberyn slithered within the furnishings as he stared into the contents of his own glass, weaving around the solar whilst the smirk grew in size upon lips when he continued to feel the hold of Cersei's gaze upon him. "You tortured my wife... there's fresh cuts and burns across her chest." Oberyn gestured from his naval to shoulder as he eyed her darkly. Moving towards her swiftly like a snake would, Oberyn's hand enclosed around the back of her neck and it made her shuddered as the sudden touch between them. "If you ever touch her again..." His voice was dangerously low as it slithered around her, making her shiver until her father's voice broke the tension.

"Oberyn." Tywin attempted to rein in the Dornishman as he continued to whisper things in his daughter's ear that weren't particular pleasant by the evident widening of Cersei's eyes. "Your actions have made me reconsider your commitment to this family... and also my mutual agreement with Eliana." Tywin wandered aloud, running a hand over his face in exasperation.

Shifting away from Oberyn, Cersei wrapped her arms around herself as she refused to let her gaze wander from Oberyn as he resumed his wandering. "What do you mean?" She questioned, her voice sounding almost broken as she spoke, not like her usual stern tone that she exercised upon those she wanted authority over.

"I've decided to allow her to reclaim the North." Tywin concluded which surprised both Oberyn and Cersei as both their heads snapped towards him, expressing their evident shock at what he'd said. "I can't trust a turncloak, that's why they're labelled as such... and if need be, she can take care of him." He offered with a faint shrug of his shoulders, smirking softly.

Cersei let out a breathless laugh as turned to face her father fully. "So, you'd risk another rebellion to dispose of a turncloak?"

Tywin let out a sigh, "All she wants is Winterfell."

She nodded in agreement but he still failed to answer what she wanted him to.  _How could he trust her of all people?_ "Which doesn't belong to her anymore." Cersei reminded sourly, biting her lips between her teeth before pursing them as a sudden thought came to to mind that she knew would make him question himself. "What if she rallies with Stannis Baratheon? What then, dearest father?"

Without answering, Tywin turned his attention to Oberyn and awaited his reply which would confirm the stifle of his doubts and hopefully Cersei's as well. Clearing his throat, he gave a wide smile briefly. "She won't... I mean, I would know; I do share her bed, after all." He replied, his accent thick and rich as he held Tywin's gaze with his own.

"What if- " Cersei was cut off by Tywin abruptly.

As he spoke, his voice had grown darker as they continued to exchange in a conversation that Tywin thought none of them were particularly benefiting from. "What if's mean nothing; they means nothing to me. They're uncertain, and I like to be certain..."

Scoffing, Cersei tried to suppress the laughter that burst through her in that moment as she regarded him with a furrowed brow. "You're a bigger fool than I ever thought you would be.  _You can't trust her._ " Cersei let out in vexation, her fists tightening considerably despite her failure of restraining herself from allowing her anger to freely coarse through her.

"I know that; but I value her... Perhaps you should do the same rather than going out of your way to inflict pain upon others because your hurting." Tywin spoke, not missing Oberyn's grin as she put his daughter in her place, relishing the moment at having witnessed such an event transpire before him at her own hand.

Cersei reached for him, her palm settling upon his cheek, her fingertip delicately stroking over the furrows and wrinkles, a swell of hope rising within her as his eyes fell on her before they drifted over to Oberyn.

But then he flinched away from her touch, scowling as if she'd burned him, his hand swatting her's away instantly. "Leave us," He spat, and he refrained from looking her in the eye as he clenched his jaw.

As she backed towards the door, the eldest Lannister child swallowed hard, her eyes blinking quickly as she tried to keep the stinging tears from trickling down her cheeks at having not gotten her own way.

_A lion does not cower nor does a lion flee... and a lion does not cry._

* * *

King's Landing wasn't like the North or the Riverlands that Eliana was used to and happy to be stranded in... the capital reminded her very much of the Reach and Dorne: a sun-trap. And gods, she hated the sun. She was born in the winter and she belonged in the North... not in the disease riddled South. However as Eliana ventured through the unusually crowded hallways, she was reminded of her mother's home, Riverrun due to the weather change she was greeted with.

The court's nobles had retreated to the confines of the Red Keep as the onslaught of rain targeted King's Landing unexpectedly - the lords and ladies complained profusely about the sudden weather change and among them but Eliana welcomed the change. Truthfully, Eliana fully expected Margaery to express her own annoyance as well, seeing as she was unable to instigate a desperate walk in the gardens due to the downpour but she refrained from doing so.

The Tyrell had tried to convince Eliana to venture outside despite the weather, telling her that the gardens weren't aware of the changing season, saying that they were as warm-blooded as herself. Eliana also knew that Margaery wanted to do so because of the privacy they would be granted by wandering through the gardens. Nonetheless, Eliana declined respectively.

They had been walking alone together for a little while, talking along the way but Eliana couldn't help but feel as though Margaery was stalling her from finding Jaime and speaking with him. Or seeing anyone else for that matter... she desperately wanted to see Alaric and her mother but with Margaery's iron grip, she knew that was entirely doubtful. "I've always been envious of your hair... I wish my hair was ebony like yours instead of this chestnut shade. It's too dull for my taste."

Clenching her jaw, Eliana struggled to maintain her composure as she felt Margaery's grip tighten upon her arm. She knew something was up, and she wouldn't let it go until she knew exactly what was going on. She felt sick as she walked along, light-headed as she blinked a few time, feeling suddenly very nauseous and dizzy which she was accustomed to... but definitely didn't like the feeling of one bit. "You're avoiding it now." Eliana commented aloud, her voice plain and strangely unguarded as she looked to Margaery.

Margaery frowned as she briefly halted in her walking. "Avoiding what?"

Eliana rolled her eyes at Margaery's sudden clueless behaviour at the resurfacing of the subject she had been avoiding had been summoned by her. "What you wanted to tell me earlier; you're avoiding it." She asserted, tilting her head at Margaery in question, her eyebrow rising in interest a the subject. "Is it  _that_ bad? Or... or are you worried you'll offend me? Are you scared of my response?"

"Your response means everything to me."

Eliana nodded, smiling briefly as they resumed their walking gradually, her gaze lingering upon the falling rain whilst she pushed down the nauseous sensation. "Then,  _please_ , just say it." She advised softly as they rounded a corner to find another cluster of nobles chattering away.

Margaery, however, shook her head frantically. "I can't."

"Why not? What's stopping you from saying it?" Eliana noted, having witnessed her going from serene in nature to suddenly panicked in reaction. "Is is that difficult, Margaery?"

Immediately, Margaery took a strong hold of her hand and begun to lead her along forcefully, weaving through the crowds of nobles as many stopped and tried to engage in conversation with the future queen of the Seven Kingdoms and dodging several Lannister guards amongst the crowds. "Not here," She whispered low enough for Eliana hear, finally confirming that she was to answer her questions. Ignoring them, she pulled Eliana further along before they finally reached a deserted alcove of the keep where no prying eyes lingered.

She stopped suddenly and turned to face her as she sent Eliana (what she thought) was a seductive glance before it transformed into a hesitant look that grew swiftly upon her features. She took her step towards her. "Close your eyes." Her voice was soft and floated around them.

Raising her brow once again, Eliana stared confusedly at her companion. "Excuse me?"

" _Close your eyes_."

Rolling her eyes, she folded her arms over her chest in exasperation before doing what she was asked to. She hated doing such things, especially when it meant she was deprived of one of her main senses but who was she to deny Margaery, despite knowing what she fully planned to do. As her eyes closed on their own accord, she heard Margaery move and suddenly her hand brushed across her cheek, causing Eliana to suck in a deep breath.  _Please don't let her do what I think she's going to do... please don't Margaery, don't do it. Don't do it._

But she did.

Hesitantly, she felt her lips upon her own whilst her nails dug into her own palms in frustration. Margaery kissed her, the gesture full of renewed confidence, her tongue sweeping against Eliana's lips. It wasn't until Margaery took Eliana's lip between her teeth and went to kiss her again but she was abruptly pushed away and held at arms length as Eliana regained her composure post Margaery's particular choice of action.

Eliana's gaze was wide but still remained as intense as ever as Margaery gazed back at her. "What was that?" She breathed, holding her firmly in place when she tried to get out of her grasp, her fingers locking into place - not to keep Margaery where she was, but to also give Eliana something to hold on to to keep her from sinking to her knees.

"A kiss what else?" Margaery smirked.

Eliana remained silent as she registered what Margaery had done, much like what she had done back in Highgarden. "That's not what I meant..." Turning away from her, she closed her eyes and held the bridge of her nose in slight vexation, glancing away to clear her mind before looking back at her once again. Swallowing, she concentrated on her breathing to keep her serene and steady. "I thought we agreed to- "

"I know what we agreed," Margaery sighed as she neared her once more. "I simply chose to not acknowledge it any longer."

"I gathered that." Eliana replied curtly as the hairs on the back of her neck prickled when she felt Margaery hovering behind her. She was suddenly reminded of all the wrong doings she made in Highgarden... all the decisions that benefited no one because they were foolish and petty, and she couldn't recall why she chose to do such things. She should have left experimenting alone like she tried to will herself to do so desperately... if it hadn't have been for Oberyn, she would have had no interest in trying such things."But you mustn't do that again."

Ignoring her, Margaery pressed her lips against Eliana's neck after moving her hair out of the way, pulling at her neckline of her tunic to get better access.

Eliana stiffened considerably at the sensation as the thoughts in her mind turned from a cacophonous roar to a dull buzzing that fluttered within her head. Despite the feel of her lips still upon her neck, Eliana remained very still as she held her breath whilst trying to ignore Margaery, knowing no matter what she said or warned Margaery of she wouldn't take heed of her advice as she should.

Her neck snapped sidewards suddenly when she heard a faint clatter... a clatter of armour? Immediately reached for the blade hanging at her side, Eliana concentrated as the clatter gradually rose through the air before a bright light connected with the pyre's glow, a group rounding the corner. Grabbing Margaery's arm, Eliana stepped backwards and forced her against the wall. "Someone's coming." She announced lowly, her eyes wide with sudden hysteria as she moved to peer around the corner and was met with the nearing form of the Kingsguard armour.  _Meryn Fucking Trant._ "You have to leave... they can't see you with me." Eliana warned as her voice became dangerously low. How she wished she had allowed Shadow to accompany to them... a direwolf would have been a great aid to her which how much trauma she had been dealt as of late. "Fucked in the ass..."

But Margaery's own panic rose at the tone of her voice. "No." She shook her head, reaching for her hand but she was shoved away which made Margaery flinch at her forcefulness, causing Eliana's movements to still.

"Margaery, you  _must_  leave." She told her slowly, her eyes shining and exposing her dread. "I'm a traitor to them, and you can't be seen with a traitor who tried to kill the dowager queen; it will not look good for you." Eliana explained to her as her panic continued to rise as the clanking of armour continued to near their hiding space in the alcove. She suddenly felt ailing and indisposed. "Go.  _That's an order._ "

Margaery gaped at the northerner in surprise at knowing what she'd almost accomplished. " _You did what?_  I'm not going to leave you to deal with this alone; I'm to be the queen and they will listen to me."  _You don't give me orders._

Eliana smiled at her stubbornness but she drew her sword and stepped away from her, adjusting her grip. "You think Meryn Trant cares about that? He wants my head, not yours. Margaery, you must go..." She imploded sincerely, reaching inside her tunic to withdraw the parchment from earlier, moving to place it in Margaery's hand, enclosing her fist around it and holding her hand to make her listen. "Take this and give it to Eleanor."

" _Eleanor?_  Your handmaiden Eleanor?" Margaery questioned, choosing to not immediately heed her instructions and instead, question them further.

"Yes. Get this to her and she will know what to do with it." Eliana instructed carefully, her eyes deadly still and unblinking as she stared at Margaery with the most serious look she'd ever witnessed upon her face. "Don't let it fall into the wrongs hands, whatever you do."

Nodding, Margaery tucked the parchment away from sight in her cleavage before she looked back at her friend, who wasn't paying her any attention and was listening out for the guards nearing them. "And what will happen to you?" Margaery murmured in concern, wanting to know that she would be safe if she were to leave... which of course, could never be deemed a possibility with Eliana.

"I'll be fine."  _If I don't receive a jab in the gut..._  Eliana shrugged off as she let out a deep sigh of frustration, her grip tightening on the hilt of her sword.

Gripping her shoulder, Margaery made her look at her again. "You can run." She pleaded, knowing that her words would do little to sway Eliana's decision.

Lowering her sword, Eliana shook her head at Margaery's suggestion. "I've been running for far too long, it's time I stop running and stand and fight." She concluded dutifully, her head held high as footsteps echoed through the air to greet them.  _Three sets of footsteps... three guards. One kingsguard and two Lannister guards._

But Margaery still wouldn't listen. "I'm not leaving you."

 _Seven hells!_ Eliana glowered at Margaery as the southerner held her gaze, her eyes shining as she saw her own panic reflected through them. "I'm the one with the sword. I'll be fine, damn you!" Eliana spat harshly, but when she saw Margaery's increasingly worried glance, she softened immediately. "Go, Margaery. I'll be fine... go."

"You still have time," Margaery whispered, her breath just visible in the mist as the downpour continued around them. "You can still escape. Come with me, please."

" _No more running_ ," Eliana repeated in a strained tone, raising her sword, re-adjusting her grip momentarily as she still felt Margaery's hand upon her shoulder, her reluctance evident as she lingered behind her.

She had almost stopped her drawing her blade, almost. Margaery's eyebrows wrinkled in worry at the dismay behind Eliana's eyes as she listened out for the onslaught of guards.  _She is so valiant_ , Margaery thought numbly. "Please be careful."

Closed her eyes, Eliana refrained from snapping at her. "I'm not going to make any promises I can't keep." She told her honestly as she moved to round the corner, but Margaery prevented her from doing so by seizing her arm.

Margaery's eyes had glazed over with tears of worry but she still managed to reinforce her concern for Eliana. "You will."

Taking a deep breath, Eliana sent her one last look before she stepped from the alcove to see the ever menacing face of Ser Meryn Trant, who clanked towards her in his glittering golden coffin, his helm looking to be causing him some difficulty with seeing. "Ah, Ser Taryn Mant!" Eliana greeted, bowing over-dramatically as he came to a sudden halt, choosing to purposely mispronounce his name to get under his skin but realising the discomfort and jolt that would come after bowing. Wincing through gritted teeth, Eliana breathed in sharply. "How I've missed looking at your enormous conk... Have you missed me already, chum?"

Only just managing to suppress his anger at her insults, he settled to inform her of the matter at hand instead. "The Queen has called for your head; you've been branded a traitor, about fucking time."

Eliana smiled at the news, having expected for Cersei to order her arrest for trying to kill her. It was the least she expected of her. "Oh, I don't doubt she'll want to take it right off... why don't you have a go?" She exposed her neck, gesturing to the scarred, snowy skin there with a smirk. "Someone did try once... they failed as you can see but Cersei thinks she can fulfill her desire?" Eliana frowned at Meryn as her finger dropped from her jaw. "Just right there, go on, you know you want to."

"Seize her."

Upon his order, the first of the two guards at his side strove forward to arrest her and take her down to the black cells where all the traitors belonged, but Eliana smiled and eased into her defence stance, tilting her sword in welcome. "Hello, fine fellow." She greeted with a wide grin.

The two circled one another, sizing the other up, and the guard adorned in Lannister red dealt a swift blow in the direction of Eliana's head which she managed to easily deflected.  _I'm slow... weakened._  She caught his eyes then and saw that they were alight with an animalistic fire, murder evident within his eyes. His blows came in quick succession, seeming less like a choreographed dance she would have expected from a Lannister guard and more like a meat hacking competition.

"Not much of a talker, eh?" Eliana spoke as she parried his sudden thrust and made him involuntary stumble backwards as she enforced the pommel of her sword into his open visor. Her body was screaming on the inside as she moved far beyond what she should be doing in her current state. "Oh well, I suppose talking isn't on the agenda..."

Sweat dripped down from his brow whilst the blood leaked from a fresh cut on his lips, his stance ruptured at her attack. "Ser Taryn you really ought to choose your companions better, my friend!" Eliana announced to Meryn in mirth as she blocked each of his blows in turn, dealing a harsh blow to the guards side as he once again stumbled back in pain. Clutching her side, she seethed through her teeth. "Do you yield," Eliana asked calmly.

"Never," He ground out, the vengeful fire burning within his eyes that made Eliana wonder how she'd wronged him so... but before she could properly contemplate it, he jolted forward, sending another blow her way.

"I thought as much," She beat back the brunt of it, but enough of it collided with her shoulder to leave a hefty bruise beneath the skin. However, Eliana continued to block his flurry of attacks smoothly, much like swatting away maddening fly. He looked exhausted, as he ought to be, seeing as he had been using his full strength against her whilst aiming to take her own but it wasn't aiding him in any way. It wasn't until the blood began to trickle down his armour like a steady full of rain to stain the floor beneath him that guard had the revelation that Eliana wasn't some woman who could be bested so easily. His breathing was ragged, rapid and shallow but despite it, he still persevered through his exhaustion.

She blocked another blow, and returned it in kind and the guard had tried to prevent it, but it had collided with his stomach before he was able.

The guard fell towards the floor, as the blood continued to leave him, and he didn't get up again.

"Fool," Meryn let out in a low rumble, giving the other guard a forceful shove as he stumbled towards Eliana whilst trying to draw his sword. "How bloody hard can it be... take her!"

The guard, from who she recognised as "Edric", slashed from the right ferociously, but due to her reflexes, Eliana deflected it simply. With an irritated grunt, "Edric" kept hacking away with each step forward but the woman kept a robust defence; meeting every sharp clang of metal with a unyielding block until he was back up before Meryn once more.

Sighing, Eliana quickly dealt a sweep kick to his ankles, throwing the guard to the ground and sending his sword clattering from his grasp. "This is tiresome..." She let out as the guard rolled and struggled to return to his feet, steadying himself as she allowed him to regain his sword. Taking in a deep breath, she pressed her palm against her side and clenched her jaw to stifle the pain. "You didn't think I'd let you take me that easily did you?"

Sidestepping, "Edric" swung at Eliana but she parried his assault, and soon enough they were clashing swords once again as one fought to take her life whilst she fought to preserve it.

Kicking the bleeding corpse of "Edric", Meryn strode past him and fervently withdrew his sword from its sheath with a sudden vigor that Eliana didn't know he could summon. ''Bloody fools." Meryn murmured under his breath.

Bowing once again, Eliana grimaced as she met Meryn's cold stare, noting to herself to not bow again as the ache ripped through her torso once more. "Hello, kind Ser... Why do you hate me so?" Tilting her head to the side, she also lifted her sword in a welcomed greeting to battle with such a renowned child beater as Ser Meryn Trant of the Kingsguard.

"You're a traitor."

"But I've an alliance with Tywin." Eliana enlightened with a small smirk as Meryn continued to glower at her through his helm. "Apparently, unlike his daughter, he doesn't regard me as such." She added in a quip that she knew agitated him when she witnessed his grip tighten on his blade, tight enough to cause his arm to shake slightly.

Meryn scoffed at her, moving to remove his helm and chuck it aside, landing upon the corpse of the unnamed guard. "That's because he doesn't see you for what you really are." He spat, his words oozing with venom as he said them, his eyes trained upon her as she wandered about the deserted hallway.

Eliana let out soft chuckle pass by her lips as she looked past Meryn and caught sight of the coal boy she'd seen many occasion watching them curiously from behind. "Oh, I'm quite certain he does." She gave a soft nod of her head in the direction of the coal boy, who turned and ran off like the little whisperer he was and Eliana brought her attention back to Meryn who had yet to properly issue an attack against her. "He just likes me that way, I s'pose."

Choosing to waste no more time; he pressed his attack immediately with two swift overhead blows. Eliana parried them easily, though impact dealt was as great as the blows Brienne had dealt during their days of sparring together. Her entire arm shook with the force of them, and the pain ricocheted through her bones, reminding her of the weakness she'd been subjected to. Meryn followed with another two strikes, forward that time, which Eliana barely managed to dodge as he moved out of her field of vision. She turned her body as she'd been taught in her childhood years and found Meryn standing directly before her, so she thrust her sword and made immediate contact with his breastplate. Soon enough, she was rewarded with an indignant grunt from the Kingsguard.

Backing away briefly, Eliana tried to catch her breath as she recalled the wound Cersei Lannister had gifted her with, causing her some difficulty in fighting as she wouldn't usually experience if she'd not been wounded. Pressing forward again, two strikes were aimed for Meryn's head, which he blocked successfully, then struck her sword with enough force to throw her sidewards. Suddenly his blade connected with her right arm, and it wasn't the flat side of it - it was the sharp edged side that felt as if it had been forced along a whetstone that same say, though Eliana didn't feel the immediate sting. She rounded on Meryn and struck back, making a clean blow to his leg.

Eliana's legs were beginning to shake, and her shoulders ached terribly all of a sudden. Sweat trickled down into her eyes as she fought but despite it she continued, blocking the many blows Meryn rained down upon her. When an opening occurred, she moved agilely, landing another neat strike... and another. Meryn stumbled, his guard gone completely for that split second, and Eliana wasted no time in striking him twice in the chest but he then suddenly disappeared from her line of sight.

Perplexed, Eliana tilted her head from side-to-side, seeking out her opponent, glancing around and turning until a brutal force met the back of her legs. Landing on the ground, her sword sprung free from her hand as she forced onto her back and a hefty smack met her cheek, causing her to shout at the sudden collision of bones.

Wincing, Eliana stifled a groan of pain at the punch once it connected with her cheek bone, causing her eyes to squint in silent agony.  _Let him do it..._ She told herself when she saw Meryn reeling his arm back to deliver another blow as he straddled her waist, heavy upon her courtesy of his armour. In all honest truth, she saw no point in fighting back for once... she'd already disposed of two guards and was wanted for treason. She wouldn't be helping anyone if she killed Meryn as well.

Grinning menacingly, Meryn brought his fist against her brow as her head hit the ground beneath he with a thump, before he took it upon himself to deal another blow to her face whilst his knee dug into the wound on her abdomen. She cried out in pain at the sensation, almost writhing beneath him while he laughed.  _Fucking arse._ "I'll... kill you... don't you worry." She managed through a clenched jaw when Meryn reached for his dirk, spitting the blood that had gathered in her mouth at him.

"Doubt it, Princess." Meryn sneered as he wiped the blood off his face, lifting the dirk over her face, having not decided which part of her face to mark. "No one's here to save you this time."

His reply made her laugh, ironically enough, because she did need saving... but she wouldn't never admit to such. Meryn was one man, one man in a suit of armour and she had put plenty of his kind into shallow graves in the grounds. So, why should he be regarded differently? Clearing her throat and the blood that had been swimming in it, Eliana smiled up at him. "Who said I needed saving?" Having witnessed his own perplexity cross his mind through his furrowed brow, Eliana moved her head in sharp upwards motion as their foreheads rattled against one another's.

It was a poorly chosen tactic, yet it worked.

Meryn was compromised enough for her to force him off of her and turn the tables, climbing atop of him as soon as she was able, before clenching her fist shut in preparation to deal a few punches to buy her some time to flee. Letting out a shaky breath, his jaw cracked when she dealt her fist to the area twice before landing another strike upon his eye and nose, hoping to break it and cause him discomfort by doing so.

Giving a groan in agony as her vision blurred, Eliana stumbled off of Meryn and reached to reclaim her blade with an assured gasp before sheathing it. Glancing in the Kingsguard's direction, she coughed to clear her throat once again before she spoke, though she doubted he would pay her any mind. "Death by my hand would be too kind a death for the likes of you." She managed to wheeze. There were others who wished worse fates upon him than she did, her sisters being two of those people. As much as it grieved her to admit, his life was not her's to take.

Clutching her side as the ache rippled through her body, threatening to tear her in two, she only barely managed to shuffle along before assuming a reasonable walking pace that would provide her with enough time to get away and return to her solar where she would be safe. Safe from Meryn. Safe from Cersei. Safe from Tywin. Safe from Margaery... but not safe from herself.

Meanwhile whilst Eliana faced the impending doom of the Kingsguard and the two guards, Margaery had departed from the alcove whilst having been met with the sharp tune of swords as they clashed with one another, making her cringe at the sound. She'd never liked swords... she didn't know how to use one; she was hopeless at the art of wielding steel to her advantage... her skill was seduction and temptation.  _The arts of being a woman._  They weren't her weapon of choice. She didn't want to leave Eliana at all... but she'd entrusted her with a task she endeavoured to see through. She couldn't let her down because of her own fear for her friend. She couldn't.

She had no idea where a girl of thirteen would be at that particular hour of the day but she assumed Eleanor would be with Catelyn if anyone. Children, from what she'd seen of Obara, Sansa and Alaric, gravitated towards the woman.

Retrieving the missive from where it was hidden, Margaery pulled it free and glanced at it, reading the writing upon the folded parchment.  _Eleanor._ She allowed her fingertips to ghost of the writing, before she turned it over and open it, her fingers thumbling over the edges as she forced it open and read.  _Rally them. We leave in three days. Meet me at where we arranged with no delays._ Her brows furrowed at the three sentences before her, though she failed to understand them. She had no understanding of what they meant or whom they were  _actually_ meant for.

Folding away the missive, she sighed deeply as she glanced around briefly, checking to see if she was being followed by anyone. It was clear, thankfully. But as she continued, she could help but feel unsettled at having read the contents of the missive. Lia was leaving her alone in the capital... her grandmother was already gone and she barely saw Loras anymore. She was scared, and the last thing she wanted was isolation. She needed company, company that she liked.

Striding along as her gown billowed behind her, she didn't register or notice the little of guards marching behind until a hand enclosed around her arm and yanked her into a sudden halt. Turning, she was startled to find that the hand, in fact, belonged to Cersei. "Your Grace." She curtseyed immediately, her grip tightening around the missive she held within her palm. She couldn't see it.  _She couldn't._

* * *

The steam of the scalding water filled the room, blurring her vision and snaking its way into her nostrils. As the air grew heavier, she found it harder and harder to breathe. Somehow, she didn't care. She hoped to pass out... but her thoughts were drifting elsewhere. She'd been back in the Red Keep for far too long, and things still weren't feeling as though she would get what she wanted any time soon. Eliana let the warm water wash over her sore body and aching bones, her fingertips running over her throbbing side, the skin around the wound was red with irritation... perhaps burning the wound hadn't been the best idea but she hoped it would suppress the chances of it re-opening seeing as Qyburn had sewed it rather than burning it in the first place.

Eliana was warrior, or at least, she classed herself as one. It was all she ever learned to do; all she was fit to do, really. Yes, she had a mind for strategy and had been gifted with cunning and manipulation... but fighting made her who she was. At a time, it was all she was... but she'd never felt as weak before, so feeble and worthless at having been hacked and swiped at for too long. Something had changed... she didn't feel the same, she felt a little less than before. Perhaps she did die again but came back... more of her lost in the darkness. The thoughts coursed through her head amidst the steam and heat, her usual lustrous raven hair was plastered against her neck, damp and sticky as she dwelled in the water.

The peace was broken by a knock at the door.

The only sign that the knock startled Eliana was a slight tensing of her shoulders, her fingers curling for a sword hilt that wasn't there as she laid in the bathtub. Looking to her direwolf whose ears had perked at whoever was on the other side of the door, Eliana chose to call out rather than immediately move towards it as Shadow had inched near in caution. "Who is it?" She called, keeping her voice brusque and impersonal. If it were another Lannister guard, she had some faith they would not attack her outright, but she still made sure to give no offense, implied or otherwise.

But it was not Lannister guard at her door, nor Tywin himself or Cersei for that matter. Neither was it Margaery. "Just open the door," She heard in an exhausted tone, the voice a familiar rumble she still found enticing.

Sighing, she rose from her bath slowly and climbed out, water dripping from her form as she reached for a robe to wrap herself in before she sluggishly moved to unbar the door so he could enter. She'd barely made it back to her quarters, hoping to regain some well needed energy and rest... but that seemed like a long shot.

Shadow started forwards with her, his body hanging closely to her legs as a precaution in her approach towards the door, her hand reliant upon the direwolf's body. "Where were you when I really needed you, eh?" Eliana unbarred the door, sliding down the lock that slid up into a notch above - though that metal was pitted and brittle, and she doubted whether either the lock or the bar would withstand a real assault. Jaime stood waiting, and he pushed past her into the room before she could even ask what he wanted, almost knocking her to the floor as she stood unsteadily. As tired as he was, his eyes still flashed as he noted the transparent robes she adorned, and his lips quirked. "I thought we'd firmly established that I was no threat to you, and that was before I lost my hand."

"You didn't wager an attack on me today," She shut the door, securing it before turning around, seeing him freeze as he saw the bruises on her face. "Your hands were tied back then anyway." She said quietly, not liking the self-pity in his voice as she turned to see him angrily pulling off his brocade and chucking it aside. She staggered over to sit on the edge of the bed, putting her face in her hands. "If it's nothing important, you can leave."

"You know I'm not going to do that; I'm not going anywhere." He kicked his boots off in impatience, his eyes still upon her face. "I'm afraid you're stuck with an oathbreaking, kingslaying cripple... but I'd say I got the better end of the bargain. Not every man gets the chance to serve a Princess, after all."

"What are you doing?"

Jaime shrugged with a crooked grin, "Making myself comfortable, what else?"

"Ser, I'm not certain you want to share in my company tonight." She looked up at him, eyes full of misery. "I'm not the one with whom you would want to share your time with."

Jaime closed his eyes in thinly disguised disgust and anger. "Shut up, Lia." He interrupted her before she could rant on any further. "I know about your little disagreement with Meryn Trant." He told her soothingly, squeezing her shoulder with his good hand and giving it good hard massage before she reached back to swat him away.

He laughed and removed his hand from her shoulder before she could hit him. "You need to loosen up," He said, waiting a moment before squeezing her shoulder again. He rolled his fingertips against her muscular back and found it full of hard knots. "I also heard you saved Margaery..."

Eliana stiffened and froze for a moment. "Lia..." Jaime grinned and he took her stunned surprise as a window to keep on rubbing at her tense back. He leaned close into her ear and whispered, "Just look at all this tension. You carry the weight of the world on your- "

"Get off!" She hissed, finally snapping out of the trance he'd held her in, swatting blindly behind her and aiming for his face. Jaime dodged before she could backhand his nose and probably break it with those sharp hits of hers, he let out a hearty chuckle as he did. His laugh faded though, when he realised how much he would have liked to have kept rubbing the knots from her strong back, to hear her let out soft sounds of pleasure as her stress drifted away beneath his fingertips. "Lia?"

Rising to her feet, she held her own arms and began to pace, her eyes maddened. "I've got to get out of here."

"You're leaving soon enough." Jaime told her, a small smile still upon his lips but it was fading fast as he watched her move, immediately telling him that something was definitely not right.

"No." She shook her head vigorously, pausing in her pacing to look at him. "I need to leave  _now._ "

The stern tone to her voice made him also rise to his feet, moving towards her in concern, wanting to hold her as she spoke. "Why?" Jaime questioned as he tilted his head, his hand reaching towards her arm. He craved to touch her.

Eliana manoeuvred so she missed his hand, shifting past Jaime to lurk near Shadow as the direwolf licked her hand. "Your sister wants my head... I guess that what she does when you try to kill her." She explained, her eyes shining in dread as she scratched behind his ears, almost losing her hand in his raven fur.

" _You did what?!_ " Jaime exclaimed in surprise at her words more than anything. Yes, he'd heard the rumour but he thought it was only a  _rumour_... but to know she actually did try to kill his sister terrified him some because Cersei had a reason to try and harm her. That worried him more than he cared to admit, but what also worried him was how much she was willing to throw away at a chance to kill his sister. "You actually made an attempt on her life?" He breathed in awe, his shock dispersing as he said it.

Eliana frowned as she looked at him carefully, his jaw clenched and teeth ground. "You thought she was lying?" Jaime nodded and Eliana blanched before it transitioned into a grimace. "Oh no, I  _did_  try but failed. I didn't want to but my options were limited and she didn't give me any other choice."

"Why?"

"She wouldn't stop talking about Robb... I couldn't listen to it anymore." Her lip trembled as she recalled Cersei's torment, how she wouldn't leave the topic of her brother, how she wanted to keep talking about him to bring her more trauma at the memory of him. The lasting memory of him...  _without a head._  "He never deserved it... just like my father never deserved his fate." It came out in a whisper as she spoke, her voice breaking as she gradually met his gaze with her own, her eyes glazing over and beginning to sting.

Striding towards her, Jaime's fingers found her forearm and he rubbed it in comfort before pulling her into his arms, not really knowing what to do with himself. "I know." He nodded, feeling her bury her face into his neck, her breath tickling the skin there.

"... And I just saw red." He heard her mutter quietly, feeling a dampness against his skin which he decided were tears.

Jaime nodded, his hand trailing to hair as he began to stroke it affectionately, sighing as she shifted in his arms. His eyes widened suddenly when he felt her lips upon his the skin at his neck. His jaw slackened when she proceeded to suck gently on the flesh there. The kisses and sucking movements on his neck made his eyes almost roll into the back of his head as his grip tightened on her. Her teeth nipped unexpectedly, as his arms seized her waist and trapped her, the tips of his fingers digging into her skin through the soft silk that sat lain between them.

Frustrated at having let her play her game for long enough, he pulled her lips to his and kissed her fervently, feeling her hands trail up to wrap around his neck. One hand had moved to stroke the stubble on his chin, soft caresses and he reveled in the feel of it, and soon he started moving them backwards until they hit a wall. He felt her wince, and he paused briefly and whispered an apology, forgetting that she was wounded.

After a few more moments of kissing, Jaime wrenched his lips away from hers and merely stared at her as their chests heaved in efforts to re-fill their lungs, his fingers trailing over her face in wonder. Slowly, Jaime trailed his hand down her arms and held her hand tightly in his, staring at her intently. "You can't leave... " He whispered, his face falling between her shoulder and face, taking advantage by kissing, licking, sucking and biting at her neck. "Just wait until I can come with you."

He pressed his lips against hers but she pulled her mouth away from his and reached for his hand to stop him. She wanted to him to be looking at her when she spoke to him, and so her hands caught his head when he went to her neck. "Stop..." He ignored her, going for her neck again but when she held his head firmly in place to make him listen. Eliana's fingers stroked the soft golden hairs that coated his head, her hand moving to cup his cheek where the faint stubble had started to grow. "I'm sorry. I can't. I just... I can't." Her words were quiet and soft, "I can't stay here; it's too dangerous. It's taken me this long to realise it..."

Using his last good hand, Jaime took his hand into hers and led her back towards the bed, using it to push her shoulder back so she was lying on the bed. "Then, I'll be ready for when you need me." He told her softly.

She nodded.

He stood between her legs looking down at her. He leaned over her. "I told you once before, I am yours to command. Always.  _I am yours._ " He pulled off his tunic and undershirt. "I have sworn myself to you, to serve you until I am departed from this world... I am yours for as long as you'll have me." He unlaced his breeches, moving to spread her legs with his and forced her farther back on the bed. "I dreamt of you with me... in this bed, naked and as glorious as you were in Harrenhal." He placed his arms on either side of her and held his face just above hers, their lips not quite touching. "For as long as I have loved you..."

She started to speak.

He pushed against her lips and she parted them as her cold, shaking hands weave around his shoulders – she moaned when his tongue met hers and when he pressed closer to her, a thrill was sent jolting down his spine because he was getting the chance to be with her again. He wasn't not going to make her regret it.

"You're sure about this," She whispered.

"Are you?" He knew it wasn't much of an answer, but then she reached forward, one of her hands touching the back of his neck, the other brushing along his right wrist up to where the gold hand was strapped. He didn't need to ask. He brought his left hand to her robe, and then she looked straight at him and stilled his movements.

"You won't like it..."

Jaime nodded, moving to snake his hand around her waist, pulling her tight against him. "I don't care." He kissed her softly, but after each gentle motion, he grazed his teeth against her lip, like a warning. "I'll be gentle..."

His words made her smile in amusement, "You don't know the meaning of the word, Ser."

His mouth was on her again, hot and needy, trailing down her neck to her exposed chest once he'd rid her of her robe. Her skin burned, and his touch both cooled and enraged the flames. His hand molded to her body, tight against her back, moving over the curve of her bottom to the backs of her thighs whilst she braced her hands on his shoulders, never pulling her mouth from his as their foreheads remained touching. "I- " She went to speak but he cut her off.

"Shut up, Lia. Whatever you're going to say, whatever sense or clarity you wish to say or talk of honour, I don't want to hear it." Jaime rumbled against her jugular, pulling away briefly to look at her intently. "All I want you to say is my name." His voice almost menacing as she looked directly up into his eyes and caught her breath at the desire she saw there.

Jaime pressed his forehead against hers, "Say it." He whispered.

" _Jaime_."


	60. Hope

She recalled her lingering admiration and attraction to those who lurked within the depths of the candle-lit crypts; her long forgotten ancestors and forefathers that bewitched her each time her gaze landed upon their statue of representation. She loved the place of worship, of memory... of family. She remembered her foremost encounter with the crypts of Winterfell by accident; her mother, the lady Catelyn, had insisted on taking her to the Sept to pray which hadn't particularly been one of Eliana's interests - she even preferred Maester Luwin's lessons to her mother's torture when she could venture to her father's tree that said naught but whispered so much. What befuddled her was the lack of interest her siblings showed towards the place; they were all reluctant to want to wander down there and cast their eyes upon the Starks of old, their ancestors...

She recollected the initial time she had enticed her brothers to go with her; Jon hadn't been down to the crypts beneath Winterfell without their father, but when his sister had coaxed him to do so with Robb beside him, he wearily agreed. They had been beside him; Robb pulling him along as Lia hummed to herself which both brother's remembered to be one their father was often inclined to hum himself as each of them stared up at the stern-faces of the past Kings of Winter, giggling as they tried to intimidate their lifeless expressions with little success.

Eliana was past her ninth nameday and nearing her tenth, but the boys were both barely past their seventh and too eager to prove themselves men. She taunted to the pair of them, goading them to go with her, saying that they were "wimpier than Hodor and more weak than Old Nan" - her manipulation had worked. She had persuaded them to venture into its depths... Jon was far too cautious to do anything that could be ridiculed on his behalf or his siblings; but he felt distinctly out of place, and Lia hated being able to see it, being able to sense it. He deserved to belong. The statues represented Kings and Lords, and there was an evident resemblance between Jon and the faces of the statues. Eliana noted that Jon reminded her of the King Torrhen Stark, the King Who Knelt, much like their lord father.

Lia, however, resembled that of her aunt and mother both, her raven braids cascading down her back with the hoax of little auburn strands that danced through it innocently, her grey eyes sprinkled with blue flecks that shone mysteriously. She couldn't see herself in her aunt or her mother but her father was resolute that she complimented his sister in both appearance and character. Yes, she thought of herself wilful and headstrong, even hot-tempered at times... but she wasn't pretty like the Southern ladies. " _You, my little wolf, are a wild beauty and any man would be glad to have you._ " She would argue that she was a skilled rider for her age, that much she would agree on... and had a certain ease with a sword.

To her, Robb didn't look like any of them; he was far too Tully.

They wore crowns upon their heads whilst iron crafted swords sat across their laps, and she knew Jon thought he wasn't destined for anything like that, like she and Robb would be, hopefully. She thought differently and so did Jon; he wasn't a Stark, for his father and forefathers were... and he would never be buried in the crypts with the rest of the Starks. No one needed to tell him that. He knew his place. He'd always known it... Lady Catelyn always made sure of that.

And it wasn't in the crypts.

However, he loved Robb and Lia too much to decline and willingly let himself be dragged along with them, laughing when they took turns imitating the expressions of their forefathers. Eliana paused when Robb halted and peered into the alcove that was reserved for their father, beside the statues of Rickard, Brandon and Lyanna. " _It's not that scary down here, Jon; you were scared for naught._ "

" _If it's not scary, why have you stopped?"_  Jon questioned his brother, following Lia as they stepped further into the darkness, both endeavouring to keep their candles alight, both pausing near the alcove that would day be Robb's.

However, the little lordling hesitated.

" _And I wasn't nervous because I was scared,_ " Jon told the auburn haired boy, returning to their father's future crypt, looking at Robb. The candles flickered but fought and held the darkness at bay. Jon glanced towards his sister who had wandered off to their grandfather's crypt, barely within the minute circle of light the candles were giving off, so he wouldn't have to look Robb in the eyes. Neither Robb nor Lia understood what it was like to be a bastard... they'd always belonged. " _I'm nervous because this is a Stark place."_

" _You've Stark blood, Jon_." Eliana called out stubbornly, scoffing.

" _But not the name_ ," Jon countered. Their lord father had treated them almost the same yes, but Lady Catelyn made certain that Jon had no right to anything associated with the namesake. " _You'll be entombed here one day, both of you, but not me._ " He wasn't sure if he was jealous or grateful.

Robb's brow had furrowed at Jon immediately, " _Yes, you will; you're our brother and when I'm lord of Winterfell, I can and I will give you a crypt of your own._  Beside us."

Jon smiled at his siblings, but the shadows didn't feel any less menacing as the words reached him. " _I'd like that._ " He admitted.

" _Fancy trying to find those lower levels father mentioned?_ " Eliana pressed, suddenly grinning as her candle burned brightly, and it seemed she didn't even notice the existence of the darkness.

Jon sighed, " _Not enough Stark bones up here to keep you happy, Lia?_ " Jon ventured, following her into the darkness.

" _Jon, you know she'd spend all day in here if she could - she spends most nights wandering the crypts... if mother-_  "

Eliana spun around, her candle almost upon his cheek as she stared at him in a dead silence for a split second. " _You mustn't mention it to her; she'll have father keep me out otherwise._ " She explained with a sudden ardent tone to her voice that neither boys had heard before despite knowing her passion and honour to family was growing more robust with each passing day. " _I like it down here; I like being with their spirits._ "

" _Theon was right; you're weird... Are you sure you're our sister and not some sceptic posing as Eliana Stark?_ " Robb laughed before looking to Jon who had barely smiled at his jest. " _Let's go... Maybe we'll find some Snow's down there?_ " Robb teased.

Shoving him, Jon laughed when Robb landed in a hallow puddle that had formed from the water dropping from the high stone ceiling, his candle spluttering out as he threw himself after Jon before they chased one another back towards the more recent crypts. Jon's candle also died during the chase, but Lia still had hers and with their laughter echoing through the crypts, it seemed less frightening.

* * *

" _Jon, why have you dragged me here?_ " Eliana let out in a grumble as she approached her awaiting brother, who (from what she thought) looked rather agitated as he clapped eyes on her. Her hand was clutched tightly around a bouquet of Winter roses, her fingers poised around the thorns. " _Is it a girl? Are these for a girl?_ " She snorted as Jon ignored her taunting, choosing to offer her only silence. " _Gods, you are getting as bad as Theon... were you scared Robb would see you, is that it?_ "

" _It's none of your business, my lady._ "

Eliana bristled at his comment, gritting her teeth at the title. " _Don't call me that_." She protested through a tightly clenched jaw. " _It's only fair I know: you dragged me from the hunt to pinch a bouquet of bloody flowers from Sansa, so this better be good_."

Jon looked at her properly then, his brow deepening in thought and subtle panic as he stared at her. " _No one saw you?_ " Jon pressed as Eliana shook her head. " _I don't want you to get into trouble with Lady Stark for_ me."

" _So what? Like my mother would chastise me for stealing Sansa's flowers anyway..._ " Eliana gave a shrug; she didn't care in the slightest if her mother would bother to pick an argument of the  _"mystery of Sansa's missing bouquet"_ , it wasn't like Sansa needed them anyway. Jon said he needed them, so she got them for him. Jon never asked her for  _anything._  " _It only flowers anyway, there's plenty more where they came from_."

Gesturing to the bouquet, Jon held out his hand and waited for her to give them to her but she held them just out of his reach, knowing he was running out of patience. " _Give it to me, now_."

" _Are you going to tell me, or..._ " Eliana trailed off, raising an eyebrow in his direction as a slow smirk crept across her lips.

" _Or what_?"

Glancing around them, Eliana let her smirk transform into a wicked grin when her eyes fell upon a muddy puddle.

Jon sighed when he realised his defeat. Despite knowing he could try to overcome, but Eliana would fight back and she was far more fierce than he was in the art of fighter seeing as it was frowned upon for girls to practice with a sword. He knew that even though she was pleased to help him, she would brawl for those roses if he didn't tell her his reasoning behind wanting them. He was grateful that even though she was known for her rough nature, the roses still looked perfectly dainty and gorgeous.

" _Swear the old gods you will not tell anyone of this, Lia. Not father, not Robb, not..._ "

" _And, most of all, not my mother._ " Eliana cut him off with a soft chuckle before allowing her face to grow serious. " _By the old gods, I swear it._ "

Jon grabbed the roses out of her hand much like a small child would snatch something they desire, before seizing her wrist, dragging her along.

Eliana sighed in annoyance, " _Oh, be serious Jon... you did promise me you would tell me. Am I that much of a burden that you can't entrust me with it?_ "

" _Be quiet like I know you can be, and you can come with me._ "

His terms immediately appealed to her, she nodded in agreement and chose to follow him, making no further protest.

Together they walked past the kennels, which were silent and empty as they'd been taken on the hunt. Eliana grimaced,  _I should be there._  The bailey looked deserted as that of a long fallen stronghold, in fact, most of Winterfell was deadly silent as most of the men had joined the hunt along with the guests from King's Landing.

As she took in the desolate place that was her home, usually thriving with life, she scrunched up her nose in vexation as Jon's lingering silence. " _Tell me; do you plan to meet with a girl in the crypts_?"

He jabbed her ribs and hustled her inside immediately. " _Would you shut up, Eliana Stark?_ " Jon grumbled as he pulled two torches from their sconces, taking one for himself and handing his sister the other.

In the silence, more companionable than both cared to admit though it seemed to occur often between the pair of them and it was comfortable, they spiralled down the stone steps that led to the crypts, while the steady flames patterned the pitch-black vaults with dim shadows. It would be oddly disconcerting for a Stark to be scared of such a place but Eliana wasn't easily afraid; to Jon, he had begun to find its musty darkness oddly welcoming, like Eliana had often told him the warmth she felt in such a place.  _Winterfell is embracing you brother, let it._ However, he's learned from Maester Luwin that it was the hot springs in which Winterfell was built upon that caused the warmth but he still found favour in Old Nan's stories, one of a coiled dragon sleeping beneath Winterfell itself, its slumber deep and undisturbed.

As they approached the lower levels, Jon deposited of his torch into a bronze ring on a pillar near the entrance and stopped beside a figure very familiar to the both of them. Turning his attention to the bouquet in his hand, he placed one bud within the hand of the statue along with a feather that had also been placed there by King Robert, whilst he set the other roses in her lap, allowing the fallen petals to lay at her feet.

Eliana's face immediately softened once she gathered Jon's intentions, " _So... they were for_  her."

" _She liked the blue ones best._ "

" _Father said as much._ " Eliana agreed, her face solemn as she stared at the statue of their aunt Lyanna, in silent awe of its beauty. " _It's usually him who brings them here, and he doesn't let anyone else arrange them.._."

Jon smiled at her statement and bowed his head briefly, " _Lord Stark is hunting with the King; keep it to yourself and no one needs to know, sister._ "

" _So, those-_ " She gestured to the blue winter roses as her smile remained on her lips. Jon followed her hand. "-  _Were the reason for all the secrecy?_ " He nodded and she sighed, placing her hand upon his forearm in comfort.  _You're a good man, Jon Snow._  " _Though, I do wish I were with them_."

" _It's not my fault ladies and bastards aren't welcomed in royal hunting parties_."

Eliana snorted, " _Honestly, I doubt Robert would've minded if we had tagged along with them. I would very much like to wipe that smug smirk off of that golden shit's face._ " She imitated Joffrey's scowl as Jon chuckled. " _I bet he can't even skin a rabbit, the prick. But none of that is worse than mother going on about marriage_."

Jon grimaced at the topic of his sister's impending marriage to a Southern lord, knowing it was the last thing she wanted. " _Fear not, Lia.. Lady Stark_  won't  _find you down here._ "

" _I don't want to, Jon_." Eliana whispered, her voice broken at the topic, her eyes meeting his eyes as they the same disdain at the idea. " _It's the last thing I ever wanted to do..._ "

" _But you liked Oberyn, didn't you?_ " Jon pressed, holding his sister at arm's length as she shrugged in response. " _Well, you said he wasn't as boring as the others... so that's something at least._ "

" _I suppose_."

Jon sighed, " _And what of the Tyrell's... what were they like_?"

" _Very prim and proper._ " She replied, the distaste dripping from her words, though it wasn't all true; she rather enjoyed meeting the Lady Olenna and Margaery, but the others were less than ordinary. They barely held her interest.

" _Oh dear._ " Jon breathed, trying his best not to laugh as he imaged his sister surrounding by precise and equally polite people who would dot on her hand and foot to keep her happy. It wasn't a pretty sight. " _I bet you enjoyed every moment of it_."

" _Piss off, Jon._ " Eliana shoved his arm playfully, before letting a deep sigh leave her lips. " _I missed Winterfell; I missed this; I missed you and Robb..._ " She let out, a small smile forming once more. " _I never realised how much I took all of this for granted until it wasn't part of my life for two moons..._  I hated it _, I hated being parted from it. From Winterfell, from everyone..._  from you."

How Jon wished she hadn't said that; It only made him feel more guilty about what he was about to say to her, and he knew it would upset her and possibly tear her in two. They'd always been close; her, Robb and himself... ever since he could remember. But it was risking it for a chance at honour.  _Do you really want this?_   _"I'm to take the black, as uncle Benjen did when father became Lord of Winterfell... You always joked I was of the winter, I belong there._  I can be something there." He paused to see her studying him closely, her eyes glazing over at his words, obviously not having expected him to say such a thing. " _When we meet again, I will be a man of the Watch, and you wedded to some Southern Lord, or a perhaps member of Robert's Small Council if you continue to evade it._ " Jon mussed her hair, though she did recoil like she usually did. " _Don't let King's Landing turn you in too much of a lady._ "

Eliana was at a loss for words. How did she reply to such revelations? What did she say to Jon... how could see accept his departure? Did he not feel at home in Winterfell? Had they done something wrong? Had she? No...  _mother._  Her mother had always hated him since their father had come back with him from the rebellion... but that hadn't been Jon's fault, he hadn't wanted to cause such a rift in their relationship. It wasn't his fault he was born.

Still finding no words, she did the only thing she could think of doing in that moment; she flung herself into his arms, wrapping her own around his back tightly as she pressed her face into his neck before feeling him slowly hug her after being shocked by the sudden embrace. " _Promise me..._ " She trailed off, suddenly very terrified for him, knowing the Wall wasn't an easy place and nor was it safe. He could die. " _You must promise me, Jon. Promise to keep yourself from harm, and promise to not endanger your life... I don't want to lose you._  Not to the North." She stopped herself, feeling the stinging sensation brewing at the corners of her eyes. "Promise me."

Burying his face into her hair, Jon closed his eyes and squeezed her back tightly, welcoming the hug and realising letting go would be even harder than he anticipated. " _I promise, Lia._  I do." He vowed, his arms tightening still as she refused to let him go.

Pulling away reluctantly, she wiped the tears that had betrayed her quickly, not wanting Jon to see them though he already had and it made his chest ache even more in remorse for unintentionally causing her pain. " _I knew letting you read Florian and Jonquil would go to your head eventually._ " She weakly jested though it barely made it out of her mouth.

" _I'm not Sansa... "Oh Florian, you're so gallant – save me, kind ser!"_ " Jon mimicked, pretending to pass out much like he imagined Sansa would or how he would expect her to, which caused an eruption of laughter from his sister before she fluttered her eyes at him, making him scoff.

" _But what about..._   _"I would give my life to honour you, Jonquil. I have come to love you, share in my love, sweet one."_ " Eliana replied as Jon snorted at the imitation of the male hero from the tale that their sister adored so much.

" _Piss off, Lia_."

* * *

She didn't know why her father had asked to see her at such a time... she was far too preoccupied after Bran's fall; she had to make sure her mother was fed otherwise she would continue to starve herself as she sat watching over her broken son. She had to be there for her mother, she had to.

Grabbing a torch from its sconce, she gave a sigh of frustration, knowing that her lord father could absolutely anywhere within the crypts – how would she find him quickly enough to return to her mother? It wasn't like she could anticipate his movements...

Well, she could and she did exactly that.

He was where she knew he would be, standing before the statue of carved stone in the darkness, having not bothered to have a torch to guide him... he was down in the crypts often enough as was Eliana, but even she lost her way.

Often she would find him standing before his family or brother, muttering under his breath that was too low for her to understand, and others she would find him before the crypt belonging to his sister. He would cry but say nothing. He never said anything... but then she supposed his tears spoke for him.

" _You know, there are other ways to spend time with your daughter... like riding, sparring_ -"

" _Eliana_."

That made her stop immediately; it was rare he ever called her that anymore, and when he did his tone was never warm... much like the wintry North where they were from, in fact. She never liked to hear him say it, because she became instantly weary and cautious, though she didn't know what she'd done wrong.

She glanced at her hands, sighing to herself as she stood patiently beside him, sensing the hesitation coming from him.

" _He's not mine_."

She looked up from her hands, a familiar crease forming in between her eyebrows as she turned to look at her father. " _Father, what are you talking about?_ " Her voice was uncertain, as ambiguous as Ned had been himself as he stood contemplating his conflicts.

Returning her gaze, Ned gritted his teeth as he willed himself to say it, to tell someone of the burden he'd carried with him for years. Seventeen years. He could trust her... they were extremely close after all; they had always been close. But he had promised to tell no one but Ned thought she deserved to know. That she needed to know the truth. He loved her... He could trust her, he knew he could. " _Jon... he's not my son, he's not your brother._ "

He watched her face slowly contort as the guilt of having kept a secret from her and him breaking his promise to Lyanna rattled through him. Several emotions flashed across her face which he found he couldn't read until it saw her settle solely upon anger. No, she was furious... especially if the looking she was giving was anything to go by; it was scathing that he nearly looked away. Her eyes were so full of anger and what he assumed was hate that it struck him to his core.

Clenching her fists, she let out a deep breath if she was to keep her anger at bay for the moment; she didn't want to react poorly but neither did she want to let it go. How could he keep this from them? From mother? From Jon? Letting out a shaky breath, she retained her scorching glance. " _Then who? Who is Jon's father,_  father?"

The way she said it made him wince knowing he'd caused her anger... she felt betrayed, he knew. He could see it, he could it in the way he knew she loved Jon, how close he was to her. How she loved him, how she had protected him.

Ned hesitated, but he knew he couldn't back out. She had to know... and that meant everything.

" _Rhaegar Targaryen_."

Her face fell at the name, her mouth falling agape in revelation at the reasoning behind her father's conspiracy at having kept Jon's parentage hidden from them for so long. Her head snapped from him to look at the stone statue before them in wonder, looking at her with a sudden clarity.

Ned sighed, even when she hated him she was beautiful. Gods, if Brandon were still alive then the entire mess would have been avoided... Ned could have claimed Jon and Brandon would have had Cat, and is wife would have the Stark brother she wanted... not his replacement. Not second best. Only then he would be able to carry the guilt he carried alone, with no questions and no looks of shame being cast his ay.

But then he would never have his beautiful children; no Eliana or Robb to watch squabble and fight; no Sansa and Arya to make him laugh at their bickering; no Bran and Rickon to remind him of himself with his own brother...

" _Lyanna..._ " He trailed off, his eyes also glued to the stone statue before them, making him feel as though he was been put to trial... but he also felt he was being atoned for his lies by speaking before her. " _She made me promise not to tell another soul. I had to protect him, Lia... she was my sister and he is of my blood._ " He paused to look at her, only to see her eyes were trained upon the statue of her aunt, unwavering as he noticed the tears in her eyes. " _I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner but I didn't_ -"

" _How could you?_ " She said interrupting his apology, though she found she didn't care for his apology. She didn't need to hear it; his apology was meant for mother and Jon, not her. She sent him another scathing look, one that told him she was still furious. " _How could you let mother treat him like that... treat him like your bastard son when after all this time, after all this time he was your nephew! How?_!"

Ned was taken aback by her outburst, not realising how it would affect her so, and neither had he cautioned the tears that began to fall from her eyes once she turned to look at him properly.

" _Robert would have had him killed... would've named him_  dragonspawn,  _like Rhaenys and Aegon. They were butchered by the Lannisters at the command of Tywin, and presented before us..._ " Ned recalled with a shudder, the memory still managing to steal his sleep at nights when he would see the bodies of the two infants in his dreams, haunting him. " _I imagined the same fate for Jon, and I couldn't bare to be responsible for such an act. I couldn't see that happen to him, and I wouldn't allow another innocent child to die at the hands of war_."

His daughter remained silent, her head bowed as he spoke, not making any movement to interrupt him. " _When we arrived at the tower... I feared I was too late, and I was. They weren't there for her, they were there for him... they didn't care what happened to her as long as the heir lived._ " Ned explained as his voice grew grave and his eyes turned solemn as he contemplated that day... the day he lost her. " _I hadn't heard her until the Kingsguard were dead – I realised why they were there, guarding a tower in the middle of the Red Mountains. She was there, I heard her screams, her sobs..._ " Ned trailed off, his eyes reflected the endless torment he'd felt so long ago.

He jumped when he felt her hand rest upon his forearm, surprised at her movements knowing she was still angry with him, yet she had pushed that aside to will him to continue. " _Howland and I... we helped deliver Jon, and gods they looked alike. He didn't look at all like Rhaegar, and that made it easier for me to keep my promise._ " He looked away from her then, sighing in defeat, his shoulders sagging, " _They were in love, her and Rhaegar, they ran away together because she never wanted to marry Robert... she blamed herself for the war,_  I know she did." He let out quietly, as she watched him closely, realising she'd never seen her father look so small and so weak before... it was disconcerting. " _It was Brandon's error... Benjen tried to tell him, or at least that's what I tell myself – to lessen the pain of not being able to save her in time._ "

Choosing to still not interrupt him, Ned carried on, his eyes shut tightly as he felt her fingers tighten around his arm possessively, reminding him of the way Lyanna had done so all those years ago. " _She made me promise to not let anything happen to him, to not let Robert find out... to raise him as my own, with you and Robb despite what anyone may think._ " He opened his eyes and they immediately rested upon her, seeing her weariness wavering as she listened, her face softening at his words. She understood why he did it. " _I couldn't let her die without her knowing I would give her son everything I could, I couldn't break my oath to her, Lia_."

Nodding slowly, she cleared her throat once she gathered her father had finished, though she knew it would be overwhelmed with emotion. " _She was your sister, I understand that... but you didn't have to keep it from us, from all of us._ " She took his face into her hands and forced him to look at her, his grey eyes meeting her own as she witnessed the dread and the melancholy swimming in their depths. " _Mother would have understood, you know she would have. She would be angry and betrayed that you didn't trust her... but she'd forgive you because she knows the love you hold for Lyanna –_ we all do." Eliana pleaded with him, his hands trailed up to rest over her own, his grip warmth and scorching upon her skin as he held onto her.

" _It was my burden to carry with me, Lia._ "

" _And yet you've confided in me... why now?_ " Eliana questioned, still perplexed as to why he was bringing up the circumstances of Jon's birth to her, and why he was telling her. Her mother should be the one to know, and Jon.  _Why her?_  " _So why now? Why not keep your seventeen year long secret?_ " She sounded so calm now, as if the anger had turned cold. He could still see the hurt behind her eyes.

" _Because you deserved to know. Because I trust you._ " Ned said honestly. " _Because I...because-_ "

" _What?_ " She pressed, her hair loose down her back and blue eyes boring into him, red from having had no sleep, refusing to leave Bran's beside.

Eliana didn't know what to feel about her father's revelation.  _Relief? Anger? Betrayal?_  What was she supposed to do? Why couldn't he explain Jon the moment he was back in Winterfell?  _What was she supposed to feel?_

Ned let out a shaky breath, his hands pulling hers away from his face and he remained holding them tightly within his own. " _Because if anything should happen to me when we're South... I want you to take your sisters and get out of King's Landing as soon as you're able; once your safe, you must find Jon, and I want you to protect him._ " His voice was eerily calm, and it scared her, it scared her to see him that serious and equally terrified at the same time. It wasn't right. " _No one can know about the nature of his birth. Not even your mother or Robb.._."

The same crease formed between her eyebrows once again as she realised his wishes, " _You would have me keep this from them_?"

Sighing, Ned let go of her hands and ran a hand over his face, gritting his teeth; he knew it was hard but she had to understand why it had to be kept between them, why no one else was to know. " _Lia, if the wrong person were to know about Jon's parentage... it's not that I don't trust your mother and brother, I just know that you will honour your aunt's wishes and you will honour mine. You've never let me down, and I doubt you ever will._ " Ned moved to tuck a lose strand of hair behind her ear, her hand lingered as he smiled softly at her. She had never let him down.

It nearly broke Ned that he had finally told her about Jon, and she had turned away from him momentarily. " _I'm still mad at you,_ " Eliana admitted, biting her lip, " _You're a good man, but sometimes, you're too bloody honourable for your own good_."

Ned pressed a kiss to her forehead, his smile remaining upon his lips. " _It's a trait we Starks pass down to our children, Sweetling._ "

" _Will he ever know?_ " She had to know if Jon would ever discover the truth, or would he remain in darkness for the entirety of his life... would be denied his birth right... would he be denied to take what was his?

" _Some day, perhaps._ "

Eliana nodded in understanding, taking her father's arm as he offered it to her, her mind still unsettled from the revelation though she was thankful he had told her. She was thankful that he trusted her enough to tell her, and that made her heart swell. " _I don't care about the facts of his birth; he's still my brother._ " She proclaimed, her voice echoing of the walls as Ned claimed the torch from its sconce, sending her a warm glance.

He smiled.

* * *

The bedchamber was cool and quiet in the pre-dawn half-light when Eliana blinked awake, feeling slightly disoriented for half a second, her body tensing and her breath coming in that of a sharp gasp that had been familiar ever since her father's execution. Eliana threw an anxious glance at Jaime, but he was still sleeping peacefully, as a shaft of pale light illuminated his features of golden hair that was jetting out in all direction, his arm strewn across her to keep her close against his chest.

Eliana clenched her fingers in the smooth fabric of the bedsheets and breathed deeply, trying to rid herself of the lingering sense of panic that had been brought on by her memories fused together a one torment. The last thing she wanted was to wake Jaime and expose how weak and foolish she had become.

She studied Jaime's face in the soft light... She didn't know what possessed her. Her hand trembling as she lifted it to trace the contours of Jaime's face, before she pressed a soft, chaste kiss to his lips.

Feeling her lips upon him, Jaime's eyes fluttered open, and he looked at Eliana with surprise which softened into something else, something Eliana couldn't place. For a long moment, they merely gaze at on another, in awe of each other.

"Why are you awa-"

Eliana placed a finger to his lips, his words dying in his throat as he stared at her, like a hare before the hound, as she stroked his bearded cheek, leaning in to kiss him again.

The kiss was neither chaste nor hesitant, but rather firm and purposeful; Eliana's lips were soft against his, but her tongue was burning and insistent, causing shivers to dance along his body. Emboldened, he slid his finger's into her hair and tangled them there firmly, causing a sharp yet quiet gasp to leave her lips as he sighed against her mouth.

"Come here," Jaime murmured, his voice oddly affectionate and sensual as he gently tugged her against him once more so they were settled face-to-face with their legs entwined and exchanging idle kisses to lips, cheeks and jaws.

Eliana could feel his warm breath against her skin as she reached for his stump to bring it to rest against her breasts, holding it there as he rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closing.

* * *

Barely two moons had passed since the sacking of King's Landing and the city was still coming to terms with the horrors that had graced the capital. It was mostly in the buildings that had not been repaired, crimson and gold banners billowing through the city... The Lannisters had left naught but terror in their wake.

Jaime grimaced as he heard his father's words, having dreaded them since knowing of his intentions and having overheard Jon Arryn discussing such things with Robert Baratheon. How could he ship off his sister to someone like Robert Baratheon – the man was known for his infidelities! How could he?

However, Cersei accepted it in the manner that would please her father; she gave a please smiled and a gentle nod of her head. Over her father's shoulder however, she spied her twin lingering, no pleasure upon his features; his lips were pulled into a taut frown and he glowered at nothing. They hadn't seen on another since long before the Rebellion, the longest they'd ever been apart.

She'd always dreamed to be wed to Prince Rhaegar... but that dream had been rudely take from her and the person who had done so was to be her husband. But nothing would ever be taken from her again, it could never be taken from her. It was her's.

Without a pause, their father proceeded to explain that she was to meet King Robert where he would present her to him in the throne room; he also informed her of what she was to say and wear - Cersei had never liked being told what to say or do but she relented as it was her father.

" _Please, Father,_ " Jaime finally spoke before Cersei had the chance to say anything herself. " _May I have a moment with my dearest sister before you have her shipped off like some Myrish silk for Robert?_ "

Despite his evident displeasure for Jaime's request, their father relented... He had what he wanted, and decided that his children would be happiest in one another's company after having been separated for so long... He gave them that at least. He'd forged an alliance with the Baratheons after their cause had succeeded... He was already forming new plots, and that was when he was most content.

Once he was gone, Jaime then made sure her handmaidens followed, Cersei having shoved them away, moving to close the door behind them. She hadn't even locked the door when her brother came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin atop her head.

They should be more cautious... The Red Keep had eyes after all, and ears, especially since Varys had been there anyway... and with him the Maester of Whisperers brought great promises of loyalty and service to the crown. If his little birds ever caught wind of her closeness with her twin. But it was Jaime; she would never deny him.

Bringing his hands to her lips, she held them there, kissing each finger as Jaime pressed himself closer against her... They would only find comfort in stolen moments. " _Silk... That's all you'll be to him; he'll take his share and then fuck anything else he fancies._ " His voice was bitter...  _envy,_  Cersei though and it caused her heart to swell with excitement at the devotion of his love.

Turning to face Jaime, she stared at the face so much like hers but with a broader jaw with the gradual growth of golden hair sparsely across it. Touching his beard, she knew he guessed her thoughts. " _I've been preoccupied as of late..._ "

It was no doubt the entire country was speaking of the Kingslayer from Dorne to the Wall... He'd earned pardon for his actions, keeping his position. " _You have,_ " Cersei replied quietly, " _Guarding the new King_." Their father was still displeased by Jaime's decision to continue wearing the white cloak, but Cersei knew that his position was a guarantee they were to never be separated again. " _And soon you'll have a Queen to watch over..._ "

" _You know the sort of man Robert Baratheon is... He won't honour his vows and he won't honour you._ "

Cersei wasn't stupid; she knew of Robert's appetites... He'd drink, laugh and boast and then fuck anyone he could get his hands on... He was a young lord without a care in all of Westeros. A man having won the war would leave his youthful vices behind for good. " _He'll honour me_."

" _Oh, of course he will,_ " Jaime sneered. " _What did he do in his grief for the Stark girl? He fucked his way through Littlefinger's brothels._ "

The Stark girl...Cersei had only known of Lyanna Stark in passing but the betrothal between the maid of Winterfell and the Lord so far South as the Stormlands had caused much talk. She hadn't paid it any mind though, her focus had always been on King's Landing... Even after Rhaegar had married Elia Martell. Her father hadn't up the hope in a match, after all Elia was known to be sickly... Her father had her brought to the Red Keep soon enough, to watch and wait. She remembered the thrill when Elia had nearly died birthing a son, Aegon, and the court had sworn she would not survive a third child. But Rhaegar never looked to Cersei, instead his attentions had been won by the Stark girl and a dynasty shattered into ruins.

However a new one was rising, and Cersei would finally rise with it and Robert's grief would have no belonging in it. Lyanna Stark had taken Rhaegar from her; she wouldn't allow anything else to be taken from her.

Still she dismissed Jaime's growing concerns. " _If he's to prove himself a King, he must act like one... Jon Arryn will see to that. And if he's to honour our father, he'll treat me as a Queen. Our father will see to that..._ as will you."

" _I can't decide whether you're being naïve or just plainly conceited, sweet sister._ "

" _Why can't you be happy for me?_ " Cersei bristled, gritting her teeth in vexation. " _Can't you see what this means to me? For our family? I will be the Queen._ "

" _And how_  joyous  _it will be!_ "

" _It's his dream,_ " Cersei spoke, " _Any highborn maid in all of Westeros would do anything to be in my position._ "

 _Except Lyanna Stark apparently_ , Jaime thought. " _I'm sure Robert will give them numerous opportunities to claim all sorts of positions._ "

Cersei knew Jaime disliked Robert but why couldn't he be happy for her? " _You only say these things out of jealousy, brother._ "

" _I only speak the truth._ "

Not her exact dream of marrying Prince Rhaegar, but yes, Jaime had the right of it – marrying a king could only be grander than her original hopes. The girl who'd imagined herself with her husband flying together on the back of a dragon still lingered... She'd gained new wonders of a reality and how beautiful they would be. " _Don't you see? It's for the best; I will be the Queen and you a Kingsguard. Father can't send me home and neither can he remove your cloak. We'll be together... always._ "

" _I'll be at your side as another man claims you for his own... it's what I've always dreamed of._ "

She should chide him further but that he had so readily conceded the source of his irritation - no matter how obvious it had already been - only warmed Cersei to him. She would make her own concessions.

" _But you'll always be with me... what's better than that?_ "

Jaime had hoped for more. He knew she could see it in his eyes and he went to speak again, knowing what he said was of utter insanity. " _We could runaway together -_ "

" _Runaway? Are you as mad as the king you skewered?_ "

" _Just think of it!_ " Jaime implored, a wide smile breaking out onto his lips as the thought rooted itself in his mind. " _We could travel to the Free Cities and leave all this behind us. No Tywin Lannister or Robert Baratheon. Just ourselves._ "

" _Father would never allow it._ " There was no other way of saying it; she had to remind her as much as she did Jaime. It was lovely to imagine... But she could never have it. " _He would hunt us down; he'd never stand for us shaming our House, you know that._ "

" _Oh, because we've not already shamed our House, dearest sister?"_

But Cersei continued, " _The dishonour of breaking a betrothal - to a King no less! Why would we turn away such power? Why would I?_ "

" _What about when our beloved father had Elia raped and murdered... And her infant children butchered like live stock? What about when he presented them as gifts to the new King?_ " Jaime growled,  _Where's the honour in that? Those weren't the actions of an honourable man_."

There had been rumors of what had happened to the Targaryen children and Lord Tywin's role in it, even at the Rock. Cersei had quieted them the best she could, more for her sake than her father's. Whatever actions he had taken, he had taken them purely out of necessity. That was the reason she'd given herself. " _They were the actions of an honourable man; it was better than allowing them to flee to the Free Cities._ " Cersei had placed so much faith in a royal marriage because that was the most she could ever aspire to. She'd always known the course of her future... Yes, she doubted some parts of the path but she understood – she only wished Jaime did. " _This is how it's meant to be sweet brother... If I married any other, I'd be taken from you. If you were not in the Kingsguard, you'd be wedded to some empty-headed maid to warm your bed and produce your heirs. You never wanted that. You chose this - to be near me. You wanted_  me."

" _No, I wanted to be a great knight,_ " He breathed softly. " _I wanted to be Arthur Dayne or Ser Duncan the Tall –memorable. And now no one can say my name without remembering the oath I broke."_

" _You'll be grater than the pair of them; you'll be watching over someone far more worthier than Aerys... It'll be a much more pleasant sight too._ " She reached towards him, her hands guiding his own down her chest and over stomach...

* * *

He awoke with a shudder at the memory fresh in his mind; a memory that had been haunting him for longer than he could remember... long before his return to the capital, before he was taken prisoner by the Stark boy. In fact, Jaime recalled he was first tormented by the memory after pushing Lia's younger brother from that tower...

Perhaps it was his conscience getting to him and making him realise that he'd done plenty wrong and had to repent for the sins he committed through his years, starting with the Mad King. He couldn't help but think if he had declined Aerys's order to be a member of the Kingsguard that he may have avoided all the hassle he had caused. He should have heeded his father's advice; he should have married a suitable wife who would have given him the heir he deserved. He deserved an heir.

But if he had done so, then he wouldn't have met the woman lying beside him, content with her head resting upon his chest and her body pressed tightly against his side, her hands still clutching his stump as she held it against her chest. He smiled when he felt the tips of her fingers ghost over it softly, tracing patterns whilst she slept.

He wouldn't have had the chance to know her, warm to her and then fall in love with her if he had declined... and if he had done so, he would be miserable with his life; stuck with a wife he didn't love and a bunch of children he would have fathered out of duty. He knew it though, he understood it... Lia taught him love and respect, and to accept himself and his flaws but also, to do things for the better outcome – not out of impulse as he'd always been taught.

It was in the past; that wasn't who he was anymore... He had found true purpose in his life, and he wouldn't allow Cersei or his father to ruin it for him. His first chance at real happiness since it had been rudely taken from him by the Mad King. No way would he allow them to deprive him of that. No way.

Glancing around the room briefly, he noted that the sun was still out and so he guessed it was barely midday from the bright beams glittering through the drapes and dancing across the stone. Dropping his gaze, his eyes landed upon the direwolf that was lurking around the bed, watching silently him in return.

Smiling, Jaime moved to offer his good hand to the beast. Raising its ebony head of fur as it sniffed his hand cautiously, Jaime's smile widened when it licked his hand in greeting. "Good boy," He muttered, moving to scratch the beast behind its ears as it rolled onto its back much like a dog would do.

Jaime grinned, stretching, and moved to rub its stomach a few times before leaning back into the warm confines on the bed and then turned his attention to his lover.

Jaime ran his finger down Eliana's nose, smiling when she scrunched it up in response to the touch before he ran the same finger down the crook of her neck, fighting the urge to kiss her there. Sighing contently, his finger made a slow trail down her collarbone and straight down into the valley between her breasts, his fingers savouring the feel of her warm, soft skin as he found he would never get enough of touching and caressing her. He paused as she shifted in her sleep and sighed heavily, which he knew was the first sign that she would wake soon... and soon those blizzard orbs of hers would flutter open and stare at him with their usual suspicion.

He knew she despised it when he watched her whilst she slept, but he couldn't care less because he couldn't and nor would he stop watching. Gently, he slid his finger across her bottom lip and smiled as he recalled how he'd kissed it, savouring the feel of her lips against his own. She stirred again, smiling as her cerulean eyes fluttered open, gradually ridding them of the sleepiness whilst his fingers continued their restless wandering as her gaze zeroed in on him.

Jaime held her gaze, his hand trailing to her hair. "Hello, little wolf." He greeted, his grin widening as her eyes narrowed in suspicion, moving to swat away his hand at his persistent pestering.

Still watching him closely, Eliana's brow furrowed. "Were you watching me?" She asked.

Jaime slowly grinned down at the sleepy expression that had crossed her features. "And what if I were watching you sleep little wolf?" He whispered, pressing his face into her hair as he felt her squirm.

Eliana rolled her eyes at his arrogant tone and with a groan she lifted her goose-feather pillow and whacked him on the head with it. "Ah!" He rubbed the side of his head as a chuckle escaped his lips in amusement. "Seven hells Lia."

She ignored his protest and pushed at his shoulders, forcing him down on the bed, before moving to straddle him. "I told you; I don't like being watched while I'm sleeping."

He was suddenly moved by a coiling sensation of lust and immediate warmth that had flooded through his body, causing him to sigh as he moved to brush the hair out from her fair. "I don't care." He tucked the loose strands behind her ears before stroking her nose with his forefinger. "I'll just continue to watch you sleep." He added with an innocent smile, though she still narrowed her eyes at him. "So you might as well accept my...  _oh_." He let out a sharp breath as her hand suddenly wandered, stealing his breath from him.

"That's what I thought." She paused before she chuckled to herself in amusement. Looking at his face, he frowned in question. "Did you pull a dagger on me in the time we slept?" Eliana pressed as he gave a breathless laugh at her jest.

Jaime went to steal another kiss from her but she climbed off his lap, reaching for a robe to wrap herself in as she left him lounging on the bed, smoothing her direwolf as she drifted past the beast to wander towards the desk that was strewn with papers, some read and some unread. Ignoring them, she turned her gaze to the map that had been lain across the table, her own scrutiny getting the better of her.

"What's the matter?" Jaime called out, reaching for his discarded pair of breeches, and then struggling to pull them up with his one hand. He tried his best to hide his struggle so she wouldn't see him, but he knew she would neither judge him nor laugh at him. Seeing his struggle, Eliana walked towards him and pulled them up to his waist before lacing them up.

Turning away from him, she drifted back towards the table and let out a soft sigh as she looked to the map. "You're a Southerner... You wouldn't understand."  _Stannis had a hard time understanding, even with directions..._ She never meant it in the way it had come out, it was just – what did Jaime Lannister truly know about the North? He'd grown up by the sea... He didn't know what it was like to live North, to survive North.

Reaching for his gilded hand, Jaime's frustration grew as he weakly fastened the blasted thing to his wrist, still hating how foreign it felt as part of his arm. It felt wrong. It made him feel feeble. He glanced up once it was attached securely, "You're right; I'm sorry I'm not of the North...But I'm not completely hopeless, you know." He sent her a crooked smile, moving to join her, his good hand resting upon her back as he looked down at the map.  _I have fought in wars..._  "I may be a one-handed cripple but I do know some things."

She saw him reach for his gilded hand – she wanted to tell him to leave, that he didn't need it with her but he'd already attached it to his right arm before she could utter a word. She felt his gaze upon her, and she knew her words were harsh and not necessarily in reference to Jaime specifically. "I'm sorry." She spoke, her eyes tracing the map in thought, her jaw clenched.

"Are you sailing past the Bay of Seals?" He pressed, frowning at the map then, trying to figure out her next move in her plan, glancing at her to see him being watched closely. "What?"

"What do you think?" Eliana tilted her head at him as she asked the question, placing the wolf marker in his hand, a smirk pulling at her lips as she watched him contemplate his answers.

He shrugged, truly not sure where they could go. Hardhome seemed the most obvious to him, but he doubted she would want to venture to a Wildling village anyway. "The farthest North I've ever been is Winterfell... How am I supposed to-  _oh_ , I get your point; a Southerner's struggle." He let out with a low chuckle of understanding.

"Storrold's Point."

Jaime frowned at he looked at the locations beyond the Wall, feeling his worry rise within him at comprehending her willingness to travel so close to danger with all the reports from the Night's Watch. "Why Storrold's Point?" Jaime breathed out, wanting nothing more than to prevent her decision to put her life on the line.

"Because Mance's army will be garrisoned in the Haunted Forest... It would be easier for us to make a move against them from there." Eliana gestured to the forest beyond the Wall by pointing to it before looking to the other places on the map. She moved the marker for her mother's house, and a marker for Stannis as she continued to speak. "One of third of our forces with sail up around Hardhome; Stannis plans to land from the Bay of Seals, and I will come from Storrold's Point." She summarised, a glint growing with her eye as she moved the wolf marker up North to sit on Storrold's Point. "They'll have nowhere to run."

Jaime sighed, "They say the Wildlings kneel for no one..."

Eliana looked to Jaime, a dark look upon her face, growing solemn as she nodded at his assessment.  _Yes, Stannis wanted them to kneel_... She'd always known that, "It's Stannis who wants them to kneel, not me. They're great warriors..." She smiled at the look of uncertainty on his face, the faint crease between his brows. "I'd rather wager an alliance with them than murder them; they have numbers, and we need numbers if we're to survive." That had been her motive all along, the drive for her to make such a decision to journey that far North. She would never do such a thing without a true, substantial purpose ready for her to use to her advantage.

"And how do you plan to wager this alliance with them exactly? Do you mean to break your fast with this so-called King beyond the Wall?"

She laughed at his suggestion that had been purely made from his own confusion. "They want to get South; we'll let them pass through the Wall where they can settle in the Gift and farm the lands there as long as they swear to rally with the Northern Houses against any threats." Eliana explained calmly, her voice strangely articulate as though she had been practicing to say it to him, or anyone who would question her actions. "Internal or external."

It dawned on Jaime suddenly, and he could helped but praise her in his mind; praise her at the initiative she'd used to formulate her solution... an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. "You mean to use them against the Boltons in order to win back Winterfell."

Eliana took the Bolton marker into her hand held it tightly enough to make her hand turn ghostly white. "They say a hundred thousand march on the Wall... that's a hundred thousand swords that the Boltons don't have. It would provide an advantage." She let out in a hushed voice, her eyes harsh as she placed it back down.

"And how would your kinsmen respond to this?" Jaime gestured to the several Northern Houses; Mormont; Reed; Cerwyn; Hornwood and Glover before moving to the Houses sworn from her mother's side; Bracken; Blackwood; Smallwood and Mallister.

She sighed again as she drew up the Dornish marker, the Reach's marker and the Vale's marker. "I don't expect them to warm to the idea but if it means surviving, then why not give it a go?" She gave a soft shrug of her shoulders, a wry smile appearing on her lips. "Jon knows how to handle them; he spent time with them and I trust his judgement even if his fellow crows do not." Eliana glanced at Jaime to see his brow was still furrowed.

"They'll turn on him, you know that."

"Aye, I do." She tried to not wince at his words knowing how true they were, and just about managed a nod of her head. "I never wanted him there as much as my father did... it was his choice, and he's a stubborn sod at the best of times. He never felt at home at Winterfell, and it wasn't my place to force him to stay." She paused, her shoulders sagging at the thought as she looked to Jaime again. "Who was I to talk him out of it?"

Jaime gave a nod and left the topic of her bastard brother at that, and chose to change it for the best if it meant he could avoid irritating her or making her concern for her brother grow. "I forgot to ask you... how did you get so many to rally to your cause?" He wondered, watching as she moved the markers to put the troops from Dorne with those from the Riverlands whilst she grouped those from the Vale with the Northern Houses.

Moving Stannis's marker to join the troops from the Reach, she positioned them and stared with scrutiny.  _What would father do? What would Robb do? What would you do? You are the Lady of Winterfell after all... Lady Stark._  She would need to be decisive and robust to deal with the bannermen of the North, and she couldn't be afraid because then no one would ever dare reject her or her terms. "I told them the truth; we're all going to die." She'd spoken as if she had been in some sort of trance, her eyes trained upon the map with interest but also with contempt.

Jaime's gaze narrowed further, his own eyes watching her facial expressions closely. "And that alone convinced them?" He quizzed, genuinely interested to how she had achieved such a thing so simply.

"That and some coin."

His mouth fell agape at her response, having not expected her to tell him that of all things. "But you-"

Glancing away from the map, Eliana met his gaze briefly before she turned away again. "The crown borrows the money, so why can't I? It's not me who has to pay when the Iron Bank calls for its due." She trailed off, her fingers drumming against the table's edge absently. "That's your father's responsibility, not mine."

In that moment, Jaime underwent a transition of emotions as she spoke... she'd just admitted to him that she'd been stealing from his father, cheating him out of his own coin and using it against him to bribe Houses that were supposed to be loyal to the crown to fight against them. It was ingenious and his father was still none the wiser about it as well... how had she gotten away with it? How had she deceived him so blatantly? She was a female version of Tyrion and he knew she was only just beginning to demonstrate the political savvy she had been keeping under rein from all of them.

Her fist clenched tightly as she gripped the edge of the table, her eyes maddeningly still and wide. "If I take his gold, I'll take his power."

"And if he finds out?" quizzed Jaime, knowing the complications that lurked in the shadows of her plan.

"The lion may be more powerful, Jaime... but your father needs to learn that the wolf doesn't perform in the circus."

He liked that she teased him, and he could tease her back. He liked how she listened to him like no one ever had before and asked questions about him, showing interest like no other. He liked her smile or when she used to smile at least... that had always been his goal, to make her smile or at least laugh. He loved her laughter. She was lustrous, ardent, and amiable. He liked flirting with her most of all, and most of the time he felt as though he was getting away with something he shouldn't, which was more exhilarating than he cared to admit, and it made him feel like a lecher. She made him feel clean and dirty all at once. She had a passion for life, and because of that, he felt his own life being restored.

His only issue was that he was struggling to read her... she had closed herself off and had grown guarded so suddenly and he didn't like it. It wasn't right; his Lia had always been so open and daring but she had changed. The capital had changed her... it had tainted her. Ruined her, in fact. But she was his beautiful disaster and he loved her, he would forever freely admit that. He loved her.

He wanted to devour her. He felt like he couldn't get close enough to her. Her scent surrounded him and it felt... right to have her body against his once more. "I love you." He loved her. He stopped moving and buried his face in her neck, afraid when he felt her stiffen... afraid he'd ruin everything they had.

"Jaime," She whispered worriedly and he felt her arms wrap around him.

"I'm sorry," He spoke. "I shouldn't have said... I didn't mean..."

She stiffened in his arms and then attempted to push him away. Was it possible that he'd hurt her by trying to take back saying it to her? He caged her in with his body and peered down at her, at the tears in her eyes as she attempted to hide them from him by looking away. "Eliana... Lia, please look at me."

"No."

"Why are you upset?" His brow deepened further when Eliana said nothing in reply and continued to recline into rigidness. "Tell me, please."

"No," She shook her head and tried to push him away from her, "Get off of me."

"No... I want you to tell me why you're upset all of a sudden." He paused, sighing. "Is it because I said I loved you or because I took it back?

She looked up at him, "Why did you take it back?"

"Because I'm a fool," He let out, "Because I didn't think you wanted to hear that." Immediately, her lips sought out his and it was clumsy at first, but soon he deepened the kiss due to his own wanton desire for her.

He smiled when he felt her lips trail over the line of his jaw and down his neck, her lips tickling as she did. "I want you... I love you." He whispered into her ear before taking her lobe between his teeth, his hand snaking around to untie the robe. However, she was suddenly gone from his grasp, causing his eyes to spring open in perplexity at the loss of contact.

Eliana had drifted towards the edge of the table, her shoulders hunched as she wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes staring into nothingness. "What is it?" His voice brought her back to reality but she looked worriedly shaken for someone who had been so serene mere moments before.

"Nothing..." She murmured dismissively, shaking her head gently, still refusing to look at him. However, her own guilt was rising within her the more she thought about the game she was playing. "It's nothing, I'm sorry."

But Jaime remained unconvinced by her dismissal, his eyes observing her closely as he moved to stand behind her. He frowned. "Is it us... is it this? Do you regret it?" He questioned, feeling his own regret rising in the pit of his stomach at the nonsense of thinking that the connection they shared would ever work seeing as she was married. "If you do, I-"

She looked at him then, wincing. "No. It's not that... and I don't regret it, whatever you may think, I don't." Eliana promised him, seeing the pain evident on his face at her rejection of his actions, though that wasn't what she wanted to do.

"Then what is it?" He saw the hesitation flash within her eyes at his question, seeing the revelation rising within their depths, the subtle panic lurking there. "Lia, you can tell me." He prompted, knowing she could either choose to tell him or not... he could never anticipate her actions or decisions.

Her mouth shifted downward, her eyes darkening. Gritting her teeth, she gave out a deep breath of frustration. "I was given a choice and I chose wrong... I acted on impulse rather than actually thinking anything through, if I had then maybe..." She stopped herself, feeling his eyes intensely observing her, unnerving her almost. "Maybe things would be different than they are; I had to take my freedom while I could before it fell into the hands of your father. It was mine to take, so I took it."

She insisted that she no longer believed in dreams... For too many had fallen away, having been crushed beneath the steely ironed fists of the merciless gods her father prayed to and the ones her mother did, torn to shreds by the wars and scattered by the harsh northern winds. What did she have left to lose honestly?

She'd been mistaken in marrying Oberyn, she knew that and had done for a while... she hadn't been welcomed with a sense of smugness or contentment at the notion of having become his life partner, his princess... it felt boring and dull. The excitement was gone.

But she had a duty to fulfil; she was Oberyn's betrothed and she was to honour her sworn vow to him despite her own wanton feelings. She had promised herself to him, she had declared herself his without knowing how it would feel to love another. How wrong it would feel to be attracted to another, to want another man... to want a Lannister.

It felt wrong; it felt wrong to admit when she belonged to Oberyn and when she had her son to think of... Alaric came above all else and she would vow to uphold her duty to him. But she couldn't deny her feelings for her guilt would consume her. "I love you." It came out as a whisper, her mind comprehending how easily it had fallen from her lips... So naturally spoken.

She could feel him behind her, shifting her shoulder and guiding her elbow gradually as his breath met the skin at the back of her neck, causing her to shiver. He stared at her for a moment, perplexed, before he at last leaned in to kiss her, his mouth soft and warm on hers. His lips slowly drew away from her mouth, brushing the shell of her ear. "Do you mean it?" Jaime murmured earnestly.

An arm slid around her waist, warm and firm, as he drew her nearer to him. His eyes studied her intently, her eyes shut as she nodded. "I always mean what I say..." He felt his heart swell and moved to kiss her once more, as though he couldn't quite believe that he'd heard her say such a thing... He had needed to make sure.

His mouth was warm and his beard was scratchy against her face but she didn't mind, she welcomed it. Her hands trailed up his chest to rest on either side of his neck, pulling him closer. The sensation were familiar ones and she felt comfort in feeling them resurface.  _My choice. Mine._

Jaime brought his good hand up to hold the back of her head, twisting into her hair, and she mirrored his movements, tugging him back to her lips when he tried to move away, biting his lip. He groaned and responded in kind, catching her own lips within his teeth. "Can this be?"

She couldn't smile. Smiles didn't feel real again yet. "I made the wrong choice... and I'm sorry for that; I should have seen what was in front of me the entire time but instead I was blinded." She moved her hips, pushing in closer, and the arm without a hand tugged at her waist reflexively.

Jaime didn't reply, he didn't move at all and the green eyes raked over her face, alight with a sudden lust. There was something of an oddity in his expression and she wondered for a moment what he may do knowing the feelings she'd neglected.

His hand slid from her hair to rest at her chin, pulling her face up until he could kiss and nibble his way along her jaw, finding his way to her neck as she sighed into it, arching her body until she was pressed firmly against his thigh.

Still at her neck, Jaime continued to lick and bite between breaths, causing a groan to rise in his chest when her hand trailed downwards whilst his own snaked up her leg, pushing under her robe. Feeling his thumb stroke at the smooth skin on the inside of her thigh, she kissed him again; slow, open-mouthed kisses that ceased in existence once he rested his forehead against hers. Snaking his hand around her waist, he pulled her tighter against him to kiss her softly, however with each movement, he allowed his teeth to graze her lips.

He smirked when he felt her suck on his low lip, running her teeth across it, causing him to pull back to stare at her before pressing her against the nearest wall. Taking a deep, suppressed breath, he held out his right arm. "Take it off," He spoke, watching her. "It's going to be hindrance otherwise." The thing was pointless; he couldn't do a thing with it so why would he need it at all?

Eliana hesitated only briefly before nodding, reaching for the straps and pulling them away gingerly, causing Jaime to moan when she ran a fingertip over the stump. He waited until she dropped the hand upon the ground, waiting for her and soon enough his left hand seized her wrist and pulled her forwards, gabbing fistful of hair as they kissed. It was less hurried than before, but there was the same subtle urgency lurking, and he wanted, oh he wanted to do a lot of things.

He smiled when she shivered at his movements, running the back of his hand over her neck, before trailing it downwards to pull at the ties of her robe, running his hand across her scarred stomach. "Just as I remember..."

Soon enough his mouth was on her again, hot and needy, trailing down her neck to her exposed chest. Beneath his touch her skin burned at his touch. With his hands busy at her waist, he pushed at her robe as it pooled at her feet, her own hands reaching for the laces of his breeches before he clasped her hands, running his fingers down her arms to the curve of her arse and the backs of her thighs.

Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she never pulled her mouth from his as he lifted her up and carried her across the room and back towards the bed. Once she was on the bed again, he pressed her chest into his before resting his weight on her, allowing himself to press into her thigh. He smirked when she gasped at the feel of her. Taking the opportunity, he captured her mouth as his fingers traced circles down the column of her neck, down and over her collarbone to her chest. He circled her breast with one finger, each circle growing smaller as he neared towards her nipple. Jaime smiled when he felt her arch beneath him, wanting him. Trying to pull her mouth from his, he followed her as he found he'd always be unable to resist her.

Jaime placed the tip of his finger on her nipple and held it there, pulling away from her mouth to look down at her breast. He then rolled the nipple both left and right, causing her to gasp, arching further into his hand.

"Jaime."

Hearing his name caused a sudden surge of dominance to rocket through him and he rolled atop her, placing his mouth on her nipple, laving it with his tongue. He stilled her with his hand that had fallen upon her ribcage as his mouth drifted to her other breast. He moaned when he felt her hands come up to cradle his head, holding him in place.

He moved his mouth from her breast gradually to run his teeth along her ribs and down her side, occasionally nipping at the skin. He licked her hipbone, ran his tongue across the crease of her thigh. Running his hand over her breasts, teasing each nipple as his fingers danced down her chest, he returned to her mouth momentarily to press a chaste kiss to them.

He raised his head and pressed his lips to her scarred cheek, kissing downwards until he reached her throat – he stilled at the scar there, the scar he had left there, the mark he gave her. He pressed his mouth against it, his mouth trailing along its length – he felt her pulse point beating against his lips whilst her hands were gripping at his shoulders.

Opening his eyes, he saw she was watching him – her eyes were wide, her pupils dilated, and he regrets knowing that it (more than likely) it will be the last time they'll share an intimate moment for a long while. But he was struck with awe; she was looking at him the way he had been looked at all those years ago when he was knighted, and he felt his heart only continue to swell... He couldn't even recall the last time someone looked at him in that way.

"Jaime."

The way she had said his name caused him to pause momentarily as her hands ran across his scalp, massaging his head, almost causing a groan to emit from within him if he had lacked self-restraint. He ran his hand along the side of her face, coming to rest on her cheek, not bothering to hide the light concern lacing his voice. "What is it?" He lost himself in her eyes as her fingers stroked his hair.

Smiling to herself, Eliana moved to trace his lips with her forefinger, her eyes never leaving his as she did so. "You're good with your mouth."

Jaime grinned, leaning forward to steal another kiss... His mind wishing nothing more than the moments they shared would foretell their future with one another... that they may perhaps one day be married if the gods were just, and she would be his and only his. "And you're a bad influence." He implored, smiling against her lips.

* * *

"I hate this damn place," Eliana whispered into her cupped hands, dropping her grip as if to release the words so they could fly, to settle with a pair of imaginary wings that she couldn't adorn herself. She pressed a hand to her head, vaguely embarrassed by her own childishness that she would expect from Rickon, Bran or Arya, though it wasn't as if her mother or Olenna would hear it, they were far too busy conversing with one another. And still, her head ached the same as it always had for as long as she could remember...

Things had changed. She was tired, exhausted in fact...  _I'm so tired of being strong. Why can't I be foolish and frightened for one, that's all I ask._  Clenching her jaw, she sighed as she felt a surge of unfamiliar hope rise within her. Se wanted to go home; home to Winterfell but her sisters and brothers were still missing. If she was to ever find home, she would need to find them first.

The Southern air felt thin in her lungs; thin enough to make her twist in discomfort in her bed each night, the sweat having beaded on her forehead for all the visions that plagued her mind. But neither did it help that they were becoming more frequent and vivid. She knew her armour would do little in helping her evade the heat, but she was on guard and she would forever be until her time in the capital was over and done.

Her shoulders sagged whilst another sigh fled from her lips, drawing Olenna's attention to her immediately, having wondered why the girl was staring out into the bay surrounding them with such fervour evident on her features. "Do you intend to ride in a melee, girl? A tourney?" Olenna called curiously, her brow rising up and onto her forehead as Eliana shook her head once she looked to the elderly woman after finally breaking her compulsion to watch the sun befall the bay. "Then why are you stood roasting in that bloody armour? Is there to be an attack?" The queen of thorns called out, glancing around them with intrigue.

"Fortunately, you are more liked than I..." Eliana replied, moving to pace around them, her eyes wandering elsewhere. "I have to have my wits about me; I have been attacked twice in the past couple of days... it's a precaution. I wouldn't be surprised to walk around a corner and be met with a sword anymore. Cersei wants my head, and I'm not prepared to let her take it." She paused and stopped suddenly to look at Olenna, knowing her mother was frowning. "I've come to like my head very much."

The elder women chuckled but her smile faltered when she gestured to the beast lying at the feet of Catelyn. "Is that why this beast is here with us?" Olenna pressed, though she didn't particularly mind the direwolf.

Catelyn smiled and smoothed the direwolf behind its ear as it licked her hand. "Olenna, the beast is tame." She knew that was a lie; if there was a threat, Shadow would deal with it... and the direwolf was ferocious at best.

Looking up from where she sat with Alaric between her legs, Obara sighed. "Protection.  _He's for protection._ " The little snake corrected as Alaric continued to babble away, causing her attention to go back to him as she talked to him.

Eliana shot Olenna a knowing look and went to reply until a voice floated through the air. "Protection is everything these days, grandmother." Eliana glanced around to see Margaery approaching them, looking rather shaken and not as composed as she usually was.

"Oh, Margaery! I'm glad to see you finally decided to grace us with your presence." Olenna called out to her granddaughter.

"Apologies grandmother, Tommen preoccupied me for longer that I thought." She answered, taking a seat beside her as Eliana moved out of the way, passing Obara a book about the Northern histories as the girl immediately smiled up at her.

Obara beamed, "You found it!"

Picking up Alaric, Eliana returned the smile. "I knew it was somewhere... just don't tell Pycelle otherwise we'll both be in trouble." She pressed a kiss to her son's brow, watching as Obara opened the book hastily.

Catelyn rolled her eyes, "And you just took it?"

"I don't ask, I take." She turned to Margaery with a slight frown, "I don't believe Tommen's quarters are particularly that far from the gardens..." Eliana observed as Margaery fidgeted in her seat and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, let out a small chuckle.

"That may be true..." She agreed, her eyes not quite meeting her own. "I fancied a longer walk is all, today is a day for such nice weather after the rain we've had as of late."

However, Eliana didn't believe her response to be of the truth... her body language betrayed her all too well... and it was disappointing.

Sitting beside her mother, Eliana sighed as Alaric immediately distracting himself with her hand as her other smoothed through his soft curls that had gradually begun to thicken on his head. Continuing to brush her hand through his hair, Eliana looked to see Margaery's eyes dart away from her which only caused her brow to flinch in question.  _Is she hiding something?_  "So, how is Tommen?" She chose to probe the farce to see how long Margaery could keep it up, and how assured she was with the lie.

Still not looking at her, Margaery hesitated before forcing a smile onto her lips. "The King was his usual happy self; warm and cheerful, so very unlike his brother."

Olenna nodded, "And that is why he is far better for you." She squeezed Margaery's knee, noticing her rigidness that both Catelyn and Eliana had clocked as well.

Margaery smiled and accept the wine Olenna handed her, "Yes grandmother, I quite agree." She replied as she looked to Catelyn.

Catelyn went to speak but was interrupted by her daughter, whose gaze hadn't strayed from Margaery's direction, her eyes trained upon her face to ready to detect any more deceptions. "He didn't have anything to say?" She wondered softly, resting her cheek on her son's head.

Margaery shook her head, "Tommen is a sweet boy; his words were nothing other than the usual interests of a boy his age..."

Her answer still didn't please Eliana; it was far too vague for Margaery. The Tyrell girl thrived on gossip, and she was leaving out so much... it felt wrong and out of place, and in no way believable. She was lying, that she definitely knew.

Having noted her daughter's questioning and marked it as suspicious, Catelyn engaged in conversation. "Your wedding to Tommen must be soon though..." She reached for her own wine whilst a servant arrived carrying another goblet.

"Oh, it is." Margaery smiled at the older woman kindly, "Hopefully this will be my last and happiest of them all."

"My princess," Eliana glanced up as she was handed the goblet which she accepted warmly as the servant bowed and fled. Looking at the goblet, she could see the steam rising from it and brought it to her lips, tasting the sweetness and minty flavour of the moon tea.

She knew neither Olenna or Margaery would understand the true reason for why she was drinking it... They would deduce that she didn't wish to have another child if she was to go to war in the North which had been her intention but her mother, she knew her mother would know better. No matter the case of a child, she didn't wish to have a bastard for him to be treated as her brother was... It would be wrong of her to grant such a life to a child. She couldn't be responsible for such a thing.

Staring at her son, she smiled as she took in his face; his round, blue eyes full of curiosity and alive that clashed wonderfully with his curls that burned auburn atop his head. He looked such like Robb it pained her heart to glance at him, to smile and stare at him... But he wasn't Robb, Alaric was her son and he would be known by all the Seven Kingdoms.  _The venomous wolf..._ Her smile widened as he sat tucked into her side, busying himself with the rings upon her fingers, gurgling away in a tongue she wished she understood.

Chuckling, she pressed a kiss to his head which caused him to squirm at the gesture. Eliana sighed knowing she would have to leave him at some point, leave him in the safety of her mother... And she couldn't bring herself to think of such a thing, being separated from such a beauty, such a beautiful thing that made her life better, that made her happier. How could she abandon him to give her life to a campaign that was going nowhere... How could she betray her son?

As Olenna and Catelyn continued to speak with one another intently, Margaery watched as Obara began to question Eliana about the histories she was reading, pointing to particular parts on specific pages, her voice full of excitement and intrigue at the scribbles on the pages before her. "Did Bran the Builder really build the Wall and Winterfell?"

Eliana smiled, "Apparently so; he was also believed to have helped Durran build Storm's End when he was a boy." She added, gesturing to the page Obara had been reading.

Margaery allowed a soft smile to grace her lips at their interaction, watching as the young snake talked away as Eliana listened willingly without complaint. She had wished she could tell her freely what happened... but it wouldn't be without repercussions of her actions... of her choosing to betray her for the sake of Cersei.

* * *

Whilst Eliana faced the impending doom of the Kingsguard and the two guards, Margaery had departed from the alcove whilst having been met with the sharp tune of swords as they clashed with one another, making her cringe at the mere sound. She'd never liked swords... she didn't know how to use one; she was hopeless at the art of wielding steel to her advantage... her skill was seduction and temptation.  _The arts of being a woman._  They weren't her weapon of choice, not like Lia. She hadn't wanted to leave Eliana at all... but she'd entrusted her with a task she endeavoured to see through. She couldn't let her down because of her own fear for her friend. She  _couldn't_.

She had no idea where a girl of thirteen would be at that particular hour of the day but she assumed Eleanor would be with Catelyn if anyone. Children, from what she'd seen of Obara, Sansa and Alaric, gravitated towards the woman.

Retrieving the missive from where it was hidden, Margaery pulled it free and glanced at it, reading the writing upon the folded parchment. She allowed her fingertips to ghost over the writing, before she turned it over and open it, her fingers fumbling over the edges as she forced it open and read.  _Rally them. We leave in three days. Meet me at where we arranged with no delays._  Her brows furrowed at the three sentences before her, though she failed to understand them. She had no understanding of what they meant or whom they were  _actually_  meant for.

Folding away the missive, she sighed deeply as she glanced around briefly, checking to see if she was being followed by anyone. It was clear, thankfully. But as she continued, she could help but feel unsettled at having read the contents of the missive. Lia was leaving her alone in the capital... her grandmother was already gone and she barely saw Loras anymore. She was scared, and the last thing she wanted was isolation. She needed company, company that she liked.

Striding along as her gown billowed behind her, she didn't register or notice the little of guards marching behind until a hand enclosed around her arm and yanked her into a sudden halt. Turning, she was startled to find that the hand, in fact, belonged to Cersei. " _Your Grace._ " She curtseyed immediately, her grip tightening around the missive she held within her palm. She couldn't see it.  _She couldn't._

" _Lady Margaery, where are you rushing off to at this hour, may I ask?_ " Little did Margaery know, Cersei had clocked the missive before she'd interrupted the girl's walking, she just wanted to see the quality of the girl's ruse and to see if she would actually lie to her face. " _My son was looking for you._ " She added with a small, reserved smile.

" _I'm carrying out an errand is all, Your Grace._ " She replied, technically telling her the truth, but she still made to flee before she was questioned further by a woman she detested. " _I really must-_  "

" _And what is that in your hand?_ "

" _Oh, this?_ " Margaery asked dumbly, though she silently cursed herself when Cersei nodded as she'd gestured to the neatly rolled piece of parchment between her fingers. " _It's my errand if you must know._ "

Cersei pursed her lips together and held out her hand. " _I'd like to see it._ "

Margaery's breathing hitched whilst her eyes widened slightly, the grip on the missive hardening as she held Cersei's gaze with a steady head.  _Don't let it fall into the wrong hand, whatever you do..._ " _Your Grace, I'm in quite a rush, I mustn't be delayed-_  " Margaery made to move away but she failed due to Cersei's guards, she cursed herself silently at her own foolishness.

Nodding to the nearest guard, the missive was rudely and rather forcefully removed from Margaery's grip only to be placed in Cersei's awaiting palm. Her eyes continued to watch Margaery as she anxiously watched her fingers break the seal of the direwolf and unroll the missive, her eyes gradually leaving Margaery to read the content upon the parchment. Cersei's brow furrowed, "Rally them...  _Is that code for something or does she hope to gain an army?_ " Cersei questioned in perplexity, gritting her teeth before she looked back up at Margaery. "...  _Where is she?_ "

Margaery's insides chilled to her very core, her face paling. " _Who Your Grace?_ " She responded, wanting nothing more than to have waiting behind the alcove if it would have meant she could have avoided Cersei. " _Who are referring to you?_ "

Rolling her eyes, Cersei sighed and tilted her head at the young woman, sighing deeply in annoyance at Margaery's pathetic decision to play the dumb damsel she knew she wasn't. " _The treacherous whore; the Northern cunt; that wet dog... Where is she?_ " She demanded, stepping towards her, her eyes shining deadly as her breath his Margaery's cheeks. Cersei bristled when Margaery didn't answer. " _Why do you have this? Who is it for?_ "

Margaery stilled when she knew she had a little choice of options... she wanted to be the Queen above all else, and she couldn't let anything get in her way to glory. She was destined for that... it was all she ever wanted, and she wouldn't let a missive to some servant girl take it away from her; she wouldn't allow her title to be usurped any longer. " _Eleanor._ " Margaery spoke, and she immediately regretted the decision, knowing that Lia would hate her for divulging her plans. She'd betrayed her, and words were just as bad as swords.

" _Eleanor?_ "

"Eleanor Mooten,  _betrothed to Dickon Tarly._ " Margaery explained shortly, having remembered her father mentioning it to her not so long ago, though she hadn't taken immediate notice of the betrothing between the two houses.

Cersei continued to watch her closely, she cautious as to Margaery's unexpected willingness to give her the answers she sought. " _But she's... That traitor has put you up to this hasn't she?_ " Cersei suddenly demanded, her hand seizing Margaery's wrist as she gripped it tightly, causing her wince slightly at the ferocity of the grasp, clearly having not expected her movement.

Margaery knew she was playing a dangerous game, a game there was no running from any longer... but that was the game of thrones... and she knew you either won or died. She only meant to win. " _She forced me to Your Grace... I- I was given not alternative._ " She managed, her voice lacking its typical serenity and steadiness, her guard ruptured by Cersei's actions that had startled her.

" _She forced you? Why would she do that..._   _what would possess her to do such a thing?_ " Cersei was curious suddenly; she needed to know why Eliana held Margaery so highly within her trust when she was so willing to out her plans to her behind her back... what was Margaery Tyrell to Eliana Stark and what threat did they pose with one another... "Why would she do that?"

Margaery went to speak but stopped herself, " _She..._ "

Cersei's brow twitched in interest and nodded for her to continue, " _Go on, you can tell me._  You can trust in me, Margaery." Cersei knew that Margaery would never place her trust in her; she didn't expect her to... but it was desirable all the same, and she was desperate to see if it could happen.

Struggling for an answer, Margaery didn't know what to say that would please Cersei... she didn't know what to answer with so Cersei would be please with her cooperation, that what would be a suitable response to entice Cersei. " _She... Eliana- she uh, she-_  "

" _Just spit it out girl!_ "

Margaery didn't know what possessed her to say it, but it came to mind so suddenly that it frightened her at how willing she was to betray the trust she had fortified with Eliana... she had thrown it away, and for the liking of Cersei Lannister. How stupid could be? And for what? Lia would never forgive her; Lia would hate her... and she deserved to be hated. " _She swings both ways, Your Grace._ " Lia would never forgive her.

" _Oh,_ " Cersei's lips curled upwards into a smirk at the words, " _Do tell me more._ "

And she did.

* * *

Margaery continued to stare at Eliana with concern evident in her gaze, the guilt pooling in her stomach at having outed her to Cersei if it meant she could be Queen. She had betrayed her trust, and to a Lannister of all people... how could she?

Hearing the clatter of footsteps against gravel as it echoed through the gardens, Margaery's gaze shifted when she witnessed the approach of a broad man with a muscular build and stocky arms, his walnut hair bouncing as he marched towards them, his brow furrowed.

Coming to a sudden halt, he straightened his vermilion jerkin and cleared his throat. "Lia." His voice was soft as it always had been and Margaery felt in awe of the man courtesy of his intrusion as she watched Eliana slowly turn.

"Thomos!" She smiled widely, passing Alaric to her mother to embrace the man warmly as he returned her hug without protest. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes... Gods, where have you been?" She pulled away to pour him out a cup of wine as he bowed at Catelyn, Olenna and Margaery.

"Following you orders Lia." He replied with a sudden grin, the flashing of teeth. "My ladies, I apologise for intruding but I have urgent... things to discuss." Thomos announced as her gaze fell upon Obara, who was watching him curiously. "Forgive me, and who are you little lady?"

"Obara Sand of Dorne." Obara informed shortly, her voice sharp enough that it made Eliana laugh as Thomos chuckled.

"You're very like your father," He commented as he took the wine from Eliana, looking back at her. "I bring news from all over the country." Thomos reached inside his jerkin a withdrew a pouch to hand to her.

"Well, your news better be bloody good." Olenna commented, as Margaery's hand fell on her arm and she held back a chuckle at her grandmother's behaviour to strangers. "Even if you are quite dishy, Ser."

Frowning, she untied the pouch and emptied the contents into her palm and saw several rolled up missives. "Which is the good news?" She pressed but Thomos's face remained grim at her question, and she knew that none were good.

Taking one into her hands, she unrolled it and read it quickly, sighing in defeat but she understood the circumstances. "What is it? Who is it from?" Her mother called to her in worry, causing Eliana to glance over at her.

"I spoke with him when we met on the Kingsroad," Thomos explained sourly, "I tried to persuade him otherwise but he was obstinate in his decision; he didn't want to lose anything else to those sons of whores... I don't blame him."

Eliana bit her lip and nodded, her eyes squinting at the words written across the parchment. "It's Brynden... he's gone back to Riverrun; he fears that the Freys will attempt another siege at the forces garrisoned there." She explained curtly, but her mother's brow dipped and she knew she feared for her uncle's life and safety. She handed it to her and reached for the next, "He'll be safe mother, don't worry."

"It's not him I worry for." Catelyn breathed, clasping her hand quickly as Eliana halted in her movements, searching her mother's gaze briefly before squeezing her hand to assure her otherwise. She needn't worry over her...

Unrolling the next, Eliana sighed at the seal as well as she recognised the hand she was met with. "What exaggerations will he boast about now..." Whenever she heard word from Stannis, it was never good.

_Lady Eliana Stark,_

_I thank you for the numbers you've brought to our shared cause, however, I fear your arrival will continue to be postponed until you've settled whatever business you have in the capital._

_I will not wait forever; I have a kingdom to conquer. My ships sail with or without you in a fortnight to Storrold's Point as planned._

_King Stannis Baratheon,_   
_Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm_

Running a hand over her face, she passed it to Thomos who read it with scrutiny. "He does love dramatics, I'll give him that." Once he was done, he handed it to Catelyn who read it thoroughly. "He doesn't know the North as well as he thinks he does."

"He'll wait for us," Thomos added.

"Have you ever known Stannis Baratheon to be a patient man?" Catelyn questioned as Eliana closed her eyes in frustration.

"More patient than Robert," Olenna reminded them all as they all looked at her. "Do you mean to tell us what is going on?"

Thomos frowned, his eyes surveying the two Tyrell women who sat at the table with Catelyn. "Forgive me, my ladies but how do I know we can trust you? I barely know the pair of you..."

Eliana hesitated, knowing that Margaery was hiding something from her and she didn't like knowing that she was after everything... but she did trust Olenna, that she could admit no matter how foolish it always seemed. "We're allies; you can trust in them, Thomos." The man nodded but remained quiet. "I'm sailing North to rally what loyalists remain across the country..."

Olenna raised a brow, "To do what exactly?" She prompted.

"To win a war," Eliana spoke without missing a beat. "I've allied myself with Stannis, so that we have the numbers to take the North back from those who stole from me... once I am finished with those who wronged my family in the North, I will flush out the other traitors root and stem, Tywin Lannister among them."

Margaery sat forward, "You mean to kill them."

"That would be a bloody start." Thomos added, folding his arms across his chest as he looked at Margaery who had been watching him closely and his interactions with Eliana... She was a pretty face with an old name... nothing more.

"Take his home. Take his gold. Take his power."

Olenna sighed, "And what will Jaime say about all this? What will he say about your desire to kill his father?" Olenna knew of the love Eliana held for Tywin's heir, the love that had formed o unknowingly between them to knock them both sideways.

Eliana nodded, "He knows of my plans; I've not kept them from him... he needed to know, so I told him."

"And?"

"He gave neither support nor protest." Eliana concluded as she retrieved the next one, and frowned briefly when she noted the black crow of the Night's Watch to be the seal, unrolling it and beginning to read with a heavy heart, knowing it wouldn't get much better.

_Dearest sister,_

_The Wildlings will march on the Wall soon enough, Mance is waiting for the right time to light the biggest fire the North has ever seen... I've just returned from a ranging party North - a band of mutineers had to be dealt with after the murder of Lord Commander Mormont. It was justice... but I'm not well liked here. My brothers won't listen to me; perhaps it is of my low birth but I know what's coming for us all. It will be a battle we can't win... our numbers are too few. I have Sam, Grenn, Pyp and Edd... but Ser Alliser won't listen to anything I have to say, he's a stubborn but blind man._

_Lia, I need your help. I would not ask this of you unless it was absolutely necessary – I should have listened to you. I chose wrong sister. Please come... I've nowhere else to turn._

_Your brother, Jon._   
_Now and always._

Her thumbs ghosted over his name, her brow furrowing at the contents as her heart dropped in her chest, her worry for her brother growing as she knew of the imminent threat upon the Night's Watch and his life. "It's Jon." Eliana spoke, her eyes rereading the words frantically as she folded it away without offering it Thomos nor Catelyn.

Catelyn sat up suddenly at the name, her interest naturally piqued at the mention of her husband's bastard, watching as her daughter swallowed thickly at whatever was written. "What does it say? How is he?" She pressed, her sudden concern for Jon surprising her, realising she'd come to care for him after having treated him poorly for so long.

Hesitating, Eliana sighed whilst her hand tightened around the missive protectively, feeling suddenly defensive over her mother's questioning but also because she didn't want to divulge the threat she was willingly going into. "He's well, sticking kicking at least... Mance Rayder is nearing the Wall. He's worried, just as he should be." She turned to Thomos, her hand clasping his forearm. "Wildlings are a frightful bunch... Are you scared of them?"

Thomos shrugged before he chuckled. "I've no reason to be afraid of dead men... But no, I've never met one." Thomos explained softly, though he was slightly apprehensive about going that far North to prevent them from besieging Castle Black.

"Good."

Letting go of his arm, she picked up another and stilled when she saw the seal of the mockingbird...  _Littlefinger._ Breaking the seal harshly, Eliana forced the missive open as she raked her eyes over the contents.

_Eliana,_

_I write to you in a hope to express my deepest condolences in regards to the death of your aunt, the late Lysa Arryn. She passed a few days ago after committing suicide, and has left the Vale in deep mourning. My uncle, Lord Baelish, wishes me to write to you in order to inform you that he shall continue to honour your shared terms as long as you hold up your end of the bargain._

_He plans to ride North with a little bird to wager an alliance with a great Northern House that many have underestimated but since the demise of your House, they're rising through the ranks and mean to take everything that once belonged to you. He means to rise with them._

_You must hurry._

_Alayne Stone_

Her mouth fell agape in the understanding of another betrayal being thrown at her... she should have never trusted him in the first place; she'd made the same mistake her father had done. How had Lysa died... her aunt had been in good health.  _The Moon door._  Baelish meant to betroth Sansa to Ramsay... she couldn't let that happen, she wouldn't allow her sister to befall a worse fate. "Thomos... Remind me when we leave to pay the Vale a visit."

"Why?"

Eliana ground her teeth together, "Littlefinger's a dead man... And from my experience, dead men don't walk for long." The missive crumpled in her hand as she felt her anger fizzle through her like wildfire, causing her hands to shake in her fury.

"Lia, what is it?" Catelyn called out, worried as Obara put her book down to also watch. "Has something happened to Sansa?"

Looking to her mother, Eliana let her shoulders sag in defeat. "Mother..." She trailed off as she contemplated how to tell her her sister had died despite them not being as close as they once were as children. She hesitated, seeing her mother's worried glance. Her shoulders sagged. "Lysa is dead... She threw herself from the Moon Door I would assume or that is what we'll be told."

Catelyn's heart sank at the words of her sister's death... another family member taken from her so soon? She was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion as her breath hitched in her throat, swallowing thickly she tried to speak but she couldn't; she was afraid she would begin to sob at the loss of the sister she'd grown so distant from. Taking a deep a breath, Catelyn composed herself and let out a shaky breath before willing herself to finally speak. "And what of Sansa? What of your sister?" Catelyn whispered, her voice sore and faint.

Glancing at the cursive writing of her sister, Eliana smiled briefly as her fingers ghosted over the alias she'd used, realising that her sister wasn't as foolish as she'd originally thought. "She's using an alias, Alyanne Stone and is posing as Baelish's niece." She explained, her voice having grown quiet but still composed as it had been despite the fear she felt for her sister. The news of having been betrayed yet again, and the predicament she was being forced in to against her will. She doubted she understood fully.

"And?" Catelyn prompted, noticing how her daughter had stilled, obviously not wanting to say anything more in front of the Tyrells.  _It can't be good..._ "You said you want Baelish dead... what has he done?"  _What has he done to Sansa?_

But Eliana didn't answer her question... she didn't want either Olenna nor Margaery to learn of the compromised position she'd put her family in, the one she'd forced Sansa into... She wouldn't give them satisfaction of having failed. She wouldn't. "Forgive me." Was all she said as she took the last one into her hands, freezing when her eyes fell upon the seal. Her blood ran cold at the sight of the flayed man belonging to House Bolton.

Breaking the seal, she let go of the breath she'd been holding as she allowed her eyes to read the words upon the parchment, her eyes growing dark as she read what little contents lurked there.

_Eliana Stark_   
_the Treasonous Cunt from the North,_

_Winterfell is mine. Come and see._

_Lord Ramsay Bolton_   
_Natural born son of Roose Bolton,_   
_Warden of the North_

Gritting her teeth, Eliana blinked as her eyes zeroed in on the words written in the scruffy hand of Ramsay Snow.  _Neutralised by another bastard doesn't make you a lord..._ "If it's war they want... it's war they'll get." Dropping the missive, she turned and marched from the company of women to flee.  _I will take what is mine, and not even Ramsay Bolton will be able to stop me._  Out of anger, she flew past several pots, forcing her boots into them, cracking them as the soil spilled across the path.

Standing, Catelyn stared after her daughter as she abruptly excused herself, striding down the path and knocking over several plants in her fury. Catelyn watched as Thomos bent down to retrieve whatever had angered her daughter, reading it before handing it over to Catelyn.  _Winterfell is mine. Come and see._  Catelyn sighed at the words, "This is what he wants... to drive her mad so she will do something as crazed as go to war with him. You can't let her." She grasped his forearm, her eyes piercing his own as she gripped his skin tightly.

Thomos sighed in defeat, his large hand enclosing around Catelyn's nimble one upon his arm. "It's not my place to question her."

"You're her friend." Catelyn persisted, wanting nothing more than to let the tears threatening to fall leave her eyes.

Thomos nodded at her statement; there was no lie in it, he was her friend but that meant nothing in being able to sway Eliana's decision. "Friendship won't sway her decisions but family will." Thomos countered, watching as her face contorted in understanding.

Shaking her head, Catelyn let out a sigh of irritation. "She won't listen to me."

"And you expect her to listen to me?" Thomos asked incredulously, almost laughing at Catelyn's optimism of his chances at her persuading her daughter. "She wants war; she'll endeavour to get it, you know that. She's wants to take Winterfell back for  _you_ , and for her  _sisters_." Thomos implored as Catelyn merely stared at him as he did, transfixed by his words before she even contemplated a response.

"I expect you to talk some sense into her... You've fought with her before; she'll listen to you, she trusts you."

Pocketing the missive, Thomos moved to take both of her hands in his, holding her gaze steadily. "That doesn't mean anything. She would have listened to Robb; to your lord husband; to Jon if he was here... not me." He paused, glancing down briefly as he let his shoulders drop in disappointment of reality. "I am not important enough to her for her to listen to what I have to say."

Looking between the river lord and Catelyn, an idea sparked within Margaery's mind a she rose from her seat to drift towards the pair, her hand falling upon Catelyn's shoulder softly. "What about if I were to speak with Lia?" She suggested, not missing the sharp look Thomos shot her from where he stood, obviously not liking her suggestion.

Letting go of Catelyn's hands, Thomos folded his hands over his chest and tilted his head in Margaery's direction before gesturing to her. "Forgive me, my lady but why would she listen to you?" He pressed, raising an eyebrow at her in wonder.

Margaery smirked. "I've known Lia a long time; she trusts me."

"Their friendship is robust, Ser." Olenna added, however Thomos's gaze didn't waver from her granddaughter and instead he stepped towards her.

"A pretty face," Thomos plucked a curl from her shoulder before he let his finger trail across her jaw, trailing down her neck to dance down her arm entirely. "Three years doesn't allow the same strength of a bond to form like one from childhood, my lady. Lia and I have known one another since we were children and she will not listen to me – what makes your friendship any different?"

Catelyn winced at Thomos's regard towards Margaery despite knowing the truth behind his words, she couldn't help but feel that the Tyrell girl could get through to her daughter somehow. "Maybe Margaery's right..." She trailed off as he gradually looked back at her, his eyes narrowing.

"And if she's not?" Thomos questioned sharply, his voice growing harsh as he spoke. "We're marching to war either way, Catelyn. There's no avoiding it..." Thomos look back over at Margaery, his eyes surveying her stature briefly, not seeming particularly interested. "No matter how close the bond you share. Or attraction for that matter." He informed them curtly, his temper growing short but Margaery persisted.

Soft laughter filtered through the air as Margaery moved towards where Obara sat with Alaric in her arms, talking to him. She let her hands run through his curls before pressing a kiss to his brow and sending Thomos another smirk. "You'll compromise her; you're attracted to her. You'll let your emotions get in the way... I won't." Margaery vowed with assurance, tucking a curl behind her ear. "Our friendship is as intense and meaningful as any romance."

* * *

The cliffs at Casterly Rock had been a difficult place for Tywin to venture after the departure of his wife – he day he felt as though his life had departed from the world. It was supposed to have been a day full of joy and of celebration but it had turned into the end of his life – not in actuality, but it had felt like it from then onwards. He had never truly understood what people meant when they spoke of grief of losing a loved one, the aching hole inside... But he knew of the jagged rent through his being that drained his very spirit from the world, leaving him empty and crippled.

He had a son. A son who would carry his namesake, a daughter who looked so much like  _her_ but the love for them was nothing compared to love he bore his adoring wife – however, it was secured within his heart, solidified in his face and eyes and hidden but there. Ultimately, there was the disdain for the monster that had killed Joanna; he couldn't outright hate him, despite as much as he willed himself to do so... The Imp carried her blood as well, and he was the head of a dynasty that carried her blood.

He had visited the cliffs once, whilst Jaime and Cersei rain on, jumping and cavorting all over the bluffs; the place he had shared with Joana, when they were younger and when they were joined together in unity, where their ambitions for their future had been daring. How they had planned together with his logic and the daring leaps of faith of his wife... But that black period after her death had eliminated all of those plans, falling around him, stone by stone, rock by rock.

Stones could be piled once again, just as simply as they had come crashing down... All it took was a little ambition to see it through but despite the epiphany, he didn't dare visit the place again.

Staring out of the bay of the Blackwater from the Tower of the Hand, Tywin let out a low sigh of discontentment as he was eerily reminded of the cliffs back at his home, Casterly Rock, the unwelcome notion of remembering his tenure as Hand of the King twenty years prior to Aerys...  _You couldn't resist the badge, you damn fool._ It was the only thing he could offer his family; his daughter would lose her status as Queen and his eldest son refused to carry on the family legacy by marrying whilst his other had been locked up once more. Since when had his life gotten so confusing?

He could barely recall the time of happiness where he felt ease and content with the life he has forged for his young family... But all that had been thrown to ruin for the sake of Tyrion, it was Tyrion who had ruptured and uprooted it.

It had been Tyrion.

* * *

All of the Seven Kingdoms knew that Joanna Lannister had returned to Casterly Rock pregnant and all of the Kingdoms suspected that the child was a Blackfyre and not a Lannister. Many knew of the King's love for the Lady of Casterly Rock... And the possibility of Aerys having fathered the babe in Joanna's womb but even if that was the case the child would never be told about its possible parentage so there would be no threat to the throne and would avoid any threat to a future Rebellion.

Tywin and Joanna had talked about names and while he didn't care much, she wanted to name her son Tyrion after her grandfather and of course, Tywin was willing to allow her anything if it meant her happiness... As long as his lady wife survived the birth, Tywin didn't care what name she chose for the babe for she was all that mattered to him.

When Joanna went into labor and the hours that followed Tywin was forced to wait impatiently outside, wanting to be with her but Joanna had refused him profusely. So he was left no other option but to wait the strenuous torture that followed; something he wasn't accustomed to doing. The hours dragged on, and his worry increased as she hadn't suffered as long in labor with the twins. When his patience had finally reached its threshold, he barged in to be met with a horrible sight. Mouth agape, he stood as Joanna lied bleeding out heavily while the Maester was working furiously between her legs. Swiftly, Tywin moved to her side and immediately gripped her as he shouted to the Maester. " _Do_   _something_ ,  _you_   _damn_   _fool!"_

Looking to him, the Maester stuttered out a reply, " _My_   _lord_ ,  _the_   _babe_   _will_   _not_   _come..._   _It's_   _stuck_   _and_   _I_   _fear_   _if_   _it_   _doesn't_   _come_   _out_   _soon_ ,  _they_   _will_   _both_   _die_."

But the blood never ceased after that.

Tywin had always promised him that there would be no tears in his unity to Joanna, from his side at least. They would marry, have children and they would grow... They would have a wondrous life. He believed in his petty lies and he placed belief in the Gods and look what they gave him in return. Instead, it took the only thing he ever loved from the world, ripped her from his arms to never return to their warm embrace.

Life wasn't fair, he knew that, he grew up knowing that... When his father gave Genna away to a Frey; when his father was too weak to protect them against the Reynes... He learned life wasn't fair and that it wouldn't get much better after that.

But Joanna had been the difference he needed. She was sunlight, the air that let him breathe- she was his wife and she had been taken from him whilst he could do no thing to stop it. And that killed him, made him ache physically in his bones and in his chest.

He refused to hold that deformed creature after that.  _Tyrion_. He can't even stand to look at the son who killed his mother to come into the world.

Jaime had asked to hold Tyrion in a hope to stop his brother crying but Tywin hadn't known what to say to his son, and so he never answered. He knew that neither Jaime nor Cersei would understand the circumstances but none of that mattered to him... He wasn't sure what to think of it. His mind thought only of Joanna and the pain left in her wake, a never ending torment of her last moments in his mind.

He recalled Cersei coming to him when the babe had cried late one night, tugging upon his sleeves and demanding to know why the babe was so upset, asking if they could get rid of it, but he couldn't even look to his daughter for she reminded him of his departed wife in looks and it pained him to cast his glance her way. He never wanted to hear those things coming from her of all people, but then again he didn't want to hear much of anything after Joanna's death.

It felt wrong to share a home without her, for she would never return to it. She would never share their bed again, nor share meals or watch their children growing and neither would they grow old together. Joanna would never come home.

She would never come home. Joanna was gone and he'd never hold her, never get to embrace her and never hear her tell him that she loved him. He would never get to do anything that he loved... That would never happen again. Joanna was gone.

Tywin doesn't cry... He would never cry again, he would never hurt in that way again. There was more to the world than pain and he would rid it away from himself if he had to.

Tyrion would grow and would have a chance at life. His son, his second son and Tywin wished nothing to do with that, he didn't want to interact with something that had been the cause of – A small part of his mind willed him to not say such a thing, that a babe wasn't capable of such things. That a babe was innocent, and that it's not his fault but he couldn't bare to push it away, he didn't want to. Neither did he want to forget or forgive, or love or hate for that matter.

And when Tyrion cried late into the night inside the room that he and Joanna had forged for the babe to grow strong and thrive within its walls, Tywin Lannister reminded himself that does not cry.

* * *

Forcing the door open, Catelyn let herself into the room, not caring in the slightest for any resistance she may have been met with... But there wasn't any, not guards to stop her only a brooding Tywin Lannister lurking near the far window, scowling over the bay.

She would fight him until she won; it wouldn't be hard... He was an old man, and he wasn't getting any younger – she had a daughter with an army larger than he knew and what did he have? A pair of incestuous twins as well as two Kingslayers for sons.

She had fought her way through Robert's Rebellion, alone and forgotten... Even after her sudden marriage to Ned she had fought, fought through the realisation of her pregnancy and how desolate she had felt. How worried she'd been for Ned, trying her best to not picture him being burned alive like his father. Cat fought through the bitterness and fury of Ned having returned with little Jon Snow, what she thought had been proof that he had no care for her despite the two children she'd already bore him; she thought Lia and Robb were proof of their love but still, she fought on.

Despite that, she'd grown to love Ned, especially when she would see him playing with Robb or reading to Lia... He had warmed at the presence of their children and it was wonderful to witness. When Sansa was born, she feared he would be displeased with another girl but had felt a burst of relief when he'd picked up their daughter with his rare, bright smile.

But fighting then would be different than the next fight she was to face; Tywin wasn't Ned. Tywin wasn't anything like the man she loved... Tywin was harsh and bitter but that didn't mean she would be dissuaded from her desire.

The man had vowed to her daughter that he would restore their homeland to Eliana, and she was there in his chambers to make sure he upheld his side of the arrangement.  _I will be as strong and cold as the North, Ned,_  Catelyn thought as she solidified her place in front of his desk, watching him closely.

"I didn't expect to see you here, Catelyn."

She cringed at his tone, which was, of course, polite but the words were sharper and brittle than any knife she'd encountered – she'd disturbed him, caught him off guard... Angered him perchance, and she hoped that would only aid her attempts further. She expected no less from him though; it was just how he was, how he'd always been and she doubted he would change to suit the likes of her.

The problem was that she could handle his sharpness better than most people; and he still wasn't quite used to her composure at being able to do so... He always seemed somewhat eager to push her over the edge, like he wanted her to snap at him so he could gain some leverage but she wouldn't. Not today, not when she needed to establish dominance over him. Either way, they knew one another and how they worked, and so their interaction was always the same.

Except now she was compromised due to Lia's eagerness to ride into war by the arrival of a simple, antagonistic note from a flayer in the North. How grateful she was to the Old gods and the New that she hadn't married that mad dog and had chosen a kind man, but the wrong man.

Catelyn turned around, a light and tight smile on her face, to face her adversary, Tywin Lannister. Adorned in all black, the Lord of Casterly Rock was the very picture of the firm justice Catelyn remembered; his posture ever so clearly etched with apprehension and caution upon her intrusion. Catelyn could see that he practically demanded a proper distance and reverence within his chambers. She steadied when she found her eyes locking with the brilliant green-gold eyes of Tywin. Eyes that seemed so intent upon taking in her form, that Catelyn was almost willed to retreat.  _Almost. S_ he could feel Tywin's eyes following her as she moved around the room, boring into her skin so deeply that she was certain he knew of her intentions before she had even voiced them.

The truth was that she didn't want to be there. She doubted he expected her to be there; and she hated being there. In all honesty, she wanted nothing more than to retreat to her own chambers; swallowed in the thickness of Ned's cloak as his scent floated around her, allowing her to remember her husband's embrace as if he were still there to give it.

"Truth be told, I'm not quite sure what  _you're_  doing here at all," Tywin pointed out. "I didn't think you liked being in my presence but here you are... Having flounced your way into my private chambers to do what? Talk at me whilst I obediently listen?" His eyes narrowed when she went to speak, shifting into slits before her breath caught in the air at the look he sent her. Tywin regarded her carefully. "Do you actually think I care what you have to say?" He pressed curtly.

She gave him a stern look, "We all know how much you  _care_."

"What are you doing here, Catelyn?" He demanded, unable to feign niceties with her after she'd disturbed him of his peace. Usually, he would be more than able to handle it and usually, he would be able to withstand her womanly woes but he felt... Strange, or at least not as he should.

There was a strangely soft, serene look about her face as Catelyn looked at Tywin unblinkingly. "I came to see you."

Before he was able to retain himself, Tywin laughed mirthlessly. "You came to see me?"

"Is that truly hard to believe? Even though we are foes, I put aside our differences in the hope to seek the best interest for someone I love," She informed him, "You know how much I love my family; how much I would do for my family... The lengths I would go."

Tywin glanced at her suspiciously, his eyes narrowed as his brows knitted together.

Catelyn looked at him suspiciously. She had never known Tywin to be concerned about people. Well, he was, but it was a type of concern that didn't bring any warm feelings. He was damn good at his job, excellent really, which was why he'd managed to keep his position secured even after the past election when a democrat had taken office. No matter what way the House and Congress swung, Tywin Lannister stayed the same. He'd only been accused of wrongdoing once, but the accusations had been shot down almost immediately. He was ruthless that way, but that was what the economy needed in the end. It takes a certain kind of calculated coldness to deal with the money of the government; and he had just that.

"So you were unable to inform me prior to your arrival? You decide to take it upon yourself to come to my chambers unannounced and demand things of me?" He paused as he swirled the wine around his glass idly, his eyes still upon her. "I don't know whether you're ridiculously stupid to think so or exceptionally fortunate that I haven't issued your removal yet." However he liked that about her, he liked that she never looked away and that she would challenge him in return, much like her daughter was insistent upon doing.

"I wouldn't call any of this fortunate." Catelyn spat in subtle rage, her eyes growing harsh as they remained trained upon the older man before her. "You've yet to ask me..."

"You're still as feisty as first we met," He spoke, not really answering her and instead, brought a smirk to his lips. "But no, I have not simply because I already know what you wish to ask of me... All you and your kin speak of is taking what you believe belongs to you; your daughter is inclined to prattle on about it often and loudly."

"She does go on about it often, doesn't she?" Catelyn added, a small smile on her face as she did.

Tywin nodded, "Every time I speak with her in fact, I think she believes I have some mental incoherency and that I'm inapt at recalling it despite how often she brings it up... It's rather amusing to say the least."

Gods, it felt strange to smile and actually mean it, and for him to be responsible for it. She'd been forced to smile for such a long time that the muscles in her face were forever strained and sore but the smile she allowed Tywin was easy, relaxed and carefree. "She has a fiery streak in her, one that can't be helped."

Tywin suddenly put a hand on her arm, startling her enough to force her backwards. "I've seen that fire plenty a time, and also in you; it shined brighter than almost anyone I've ever met," He told her softly, his eyes still surveying her cautiously. "And perhaps I  _care_  enough to check to see if that fire still exists."

Catelyn sighed, feeling more open and raw than she had in the past three months. Of course people asked her if she was alright. Her secretary shot her wary glances; the people in her office seemed to tiptoe around her; her brother teetered nervously between wanting to keep her company and leaving her to herself; and even the house staff was on edge with her. All she wanted was for people to treat her normally. All she wanted was for people to actually mean it when they asked her if she was okay. Because in all honesty, she wasn't, not in the slightest, but she felt like people didn't really care enough to honestly want to know that.

And it was strange to hear something such as that coming from Tywin Lannister, of all people, at within his own chambers after she'd  _rudely_ disturbed him. "Would you believe me if I told you I feel fine?" She asked him.

Tywin snorted, "Absolutely not." He replied without missing a beat.

"Then you have your answer." She bit her lip, clasping her hands behind her back. "However, I wouldn't quite say  _my_ fire had gone out... It still flickers, as it has always done."

Tywin set his glass down on his desk behind him as he moved to fold his arms across his chest. "What do you want Catelyn? I've pressing matters I need to handle before- "

Catelyn smiled the old lion, her nimble fingers trailing over the badge upon his right breast. "I came to ensure you'll uphold your vow to my daughter." She reminded and despite herself, the small smile returned to her face again. "I trust you will endeavour to do so won't you?"

"I haven't decided as of yet... Eliana has my attention as does her cause, don't doubt that." Tywin told her. "It always has."

Stepping away from Tywin, Catelyn sighed to herself as she looked up at him with her Tully gaze. She couldn't deny the satisfaction she felt knowing she had Tywin's full attention without having barely done anything at all, it made her feel strong. "Eliana is riding North to claim vengeance over those who have wronged us, and when she's done with them..." She trailed off as she watched the words sink into his mind, observing as he registered what she was telling him, little more than what he'd already deduced himself. "You're next, and if you think she'll show you mercy, then you're sorely mistaken."

Tywin smirked and retrieved his wine, taking a long sip before regarding Catelyn once more. "Have you always been this fierce?" He jested, his smirk growing as her gaze hardened in his direction, which solidified his attention. "I'm listening."

* * *

She knows it's not there. There's nothing there, nothing on her hands... Nothing but raw skin over thin bones.

But she  _feels_  it, feels the blood stinging hot and wet on her palms and coating her fingers and it won't  _come off_ , won't wash away even as she took the cloth into her hands and scrubs, digging viciously into her skin to rub away what's no longer there. She can still see, as vividly as the moment it happened, the futile struggle of her maid, can still hear as her breathing gave away as her body went limp in her arms.

And she can feel it, the remembrance of the sticky wetness of the blood as it drizzled from her chest and she is once again viciously reminded that if she'd perhaps got to a little sooner, had come sooner...

Her breath is heavy through her nose as the look in her eyes just before her heart stopped beating continued to flash through her mind as her slippery, soap covered hands turned to the faucet and she thrusted them beneath the strong flow of water. It was hot and it burned, making her already raw skin prickle and sear but she didn't care because she could still see the blood and the red refused to come off.  _It wouldn't come off._

Eliana knows it's not there. It's  _not_  she  _knows_  that. But she took the cloth and bar of soap and she scrubbed because it's  _still there,_  it won't go away.

It would never go away.

She scrubbed until she wasn't sure if what she's seeing is her maid's blood or her own as she continued to wear down her skin. The scene kept flying through her mind, the way her head rolled against her shoulder, how her body grew limp and the moment she vowed to avenge her death because she owed her that for not being there to begin with, for not being quick enough.

The blood... So much blood, red and sticky and warm.

It wouldn't  _fucking_  come off. It was there, she could see it, even though she  _knew_  it wasn't-

_I'm sorry._

She tensed at the recollection of her voice, the cloth in one hand and soap in the other were gripped beneath her weary fingers as the voice pierced and mingled through her thoughts.

Her scrubbing didn't slow and her teeth clenched against each other because she swore to herself that she could hear the poor girl's voice. There was  _still_ blood on her hands, and she  _still_  knows that it's not actually there but it  _still_  won't go away.

The blood's not gone and despite the protests coming from her hands she continues to scrub because she's not going to stop until she's free of it, even if she has to scrub away her own hands to stumps, to useless bits of flesh and bone until the blood of an innocent was banished from her memory.

_It doesn't hurt... It's not your fault._

But it  _is_... She can see it as she stared down at her hands, the blood is still there... Red and warm... Even thought it's not really, it still stained her hands. She flexed her fingers and gritted her teeth, "I'm so sorry, Eleanor..." Her voice sounded so feeble but it was desperate. But the blood  _won't fucking go away_  because it would never go away.

Her grip on the cloth and soap began to loosen, but her head started to shake back and fort in denial. She knew it wasn't there, it's not... And it has never been, she knew. But she's still not washed the blood from her hands. The grasp she had on the cloth and soap grew lax enough for them to fall before her. She stood, slumped and her shoulders weighted in defeat.

Looking over her shoulder, Eliana shuddered at the sight of the girl's limp body upon the floor in the pool of her own blood. Turning, she lowered herself to the ground to collect the girls body into her arms, adjusting her comfortably as she turned to the door, cradling the body of the friend she'd been wrongfully departed with.

"My hands shall be forever stained in blood... No cloth will cleanse them of that."

* * *

" _You_   _still_   _have_   _time_ ," Eleanor whispered, her breathing shallow as she stared up at her friend with a look of terror in her eyes. " _You_   _can_   _still_   _escape_ ,  _even_   _if_   _I_   _have_   _failed_   _you_."

" _I'm_   _not_   _leaving_   _you_ ," Eliana replied, setting aside the dagger that had been used, blood trickling from her mouth slowly, but at her abdomen was a gash so deep that the blood almost poured from it. She had tried to stop the bleeding, but it was no use. It wouldn't be long. " _You_   _have_   _not_   _failed_   _me_ ,  _you_   _never_   _failed_   _me_.  _It_   _is_   _I_   _who_   _failed_   _you_."

Eliana gently lifted Eleanor's head and set it on her lap. All she could thin about was Eleanor dying all alone, she couldn't let that happen. She couldn't. So she sat there, cradling the girl's head, the fingers of her hand tightly grasping Eleanor's own. She kept insisting that Eliana leave her to die, to flee the city whilst she still had the time to do so. However, when Eliana refused to move, the girl gave up with a sigh and her eyes found Eliana's and she just smiled up at her, defeated.

Eleanor shivered as her breathing grew shallower, the girl noted the hot tears swelling in Eliana's eyes as they soon dripped into her hair. The girls brow wrinkled in worry at Eliana's dismay.  _She is so brave,_ Eliana thought to herself.  _She is the one dying and she's worrying over me._

Her eyes closed slowly as she breathed out softly. Eliana leaned down and pressed her lips against her forehead; it was freezing and that made Eliana even sadder. She pulled away and felt Eleanor's hand grip upon hers grow even more taut than before.

Eleanor's lips moved slightly, and Eliana caught the two words as they hung in the air for a short moment. " _Thank_   _you_ ,  _Lia_."

She sat there with Eleanor for what felt like hours. Not moving, refusing to leave her. She didn't even make a sound. Even when Eleanor had gone, she stayed with her.

She owed her that much at least.

* * *

Eliana kept her head tucked against her shoulder as she walked along the corridor, ensuring she was safe in her hold as she did. She would do what she should have done long ago. She would present her body before Tommen.

She would make him see, one way or another, Tommen would understand.

She was still in full armour when she entered the throne room, the room itself was quiet and all she could see was the Iron Throne. The last time she had properly seen it without a king sat atop it had been when she'd first arrived in King's Landing, when she has gone to see her father during a meeting of the Small Council, when Robert had still ruled unchallenged and in good health, when she hadn't expected things to move so fast that his youngster bastard son now sat in his place. There was something foreboding about the empty hall, without the courtly hustle and bustle that recalled of Robert's reign... It was dark and cold, like a crypt almost; and after all it was the Iron Throne that had swallowed all who sat atop it.

Eliana had never desired to sit upon the thing that was only a few feet away, within her reach. She understood why Stannis hungered for the thing, and why her brother never did.

Eliana slowly walked through the hall, having passed it countless times, but this time it was different and although she hated being sentimental person, she couldn't deny that her heart did beat faster in her chest as she approached the throne. There were soft steps behind her – Shadow, that had always been her constant shadow, better at protecting her than most.

She knelt before the steps and placed the body down softly upon the first set of steps, folding her hands together before removing her cloak and placing it over Eleanor's body, covering her from prying eyes.

She hesitated before she went up the steps to that black-grey, charred monstrosity. It was for that blasted throne that the realm was being torn to pieces, though she knew better. She hadn't gone to war for a throne, she had gone to war for justice, for order, for law. She never wanted the Iron Throne for it would be a burden... But neither would she have left her own burdens to others. They were hers and hers alone.

It was as ugly as she remembered it, sharp and uninviting, and it looked even more uncomfortable. Eliana stretched out her hand, but she halted before her fingers touched the metal. She wondered if she would cut herself upon it – It was foolish superstition. However, she felt an odd sense of relief when her fingers finally touched the throne and only felt dull edges, no sharp ridges to tear open her skin.

Her frown deepened, and she sat down. The metal was hard and cold and even through the armour she was wearing as it hit the front of the rigid chair that made her sit crookedly, she understood.  _Aegon the Conqueror had been a smart man,_ Eliana thought. A king would never sit easy, just as he would never be able to rest his head.

She looked down and saw Shadow sitting by the body, staring up at her, eyes watching her closely. "Why should this belong to only men, when it is women who see more blood?" Eliana questioned herself, brow furrowed deep in thought. "Men fight wars but it is women who win them." Her hands came to rest on the charred, broken blades of the throne. A hard, dangerous seat, but only a foolish boy like Joffrey could ever have thought ruling easy. "How wondrous it would be to sit a throne such as this... With its sharp and treacherous edges. I still don't know why anyone would ever want it."

"Princess."

Glancing upwards, Eliana smiled as the doors to the throne room opened and several echoes of footsteps could be heard. Her eyes zeroed in upon the boy King, and she forced herself up again, ignoring the weariness she felt suddenly through her bones after having faced so much strife. "Come, Your Grace," Eliana said as she walked down the steps. "This is no time for idleness, I would have words, if you'd be so kind."

* * *

The Kingsguard had been tearing through Winterfell all morning, looking for the little prince but it was Eliana who found Tommen, tucked into a small alcove in a rarely used corridor. She would have walked right past him if she had not spent her childhood hiding with her brothers; she had grown adept to spotting the smallest disturbance of a tapestry long ago, as well as seeing one of Tommen's boots sticking out.

When she pulled the tapestry aside, Eliana found the little prince hugging his knees tightly to his chest as if he wanted to disappear. His eyes were red and swollen from crying, but Eliana pretended to not notice. " _We_   _have_   _been_   _looking_   _everywhere_   _for_   _you_ ,  _Tommen_ ," Eliana spoke, smiling as she crouched beside him. " _Shall_   _we_   _return_   _you_   _to_   _your_   _mother?_   _I_   _believe_   _she's_   _very_ _worried_   _about_   _you_."

" _No_ ," He said, turning his face away to stare gloomily down at the floor. " _I_   _don't_   _want_   _to_   _see_   _my_   _mother_."

Eliana frowned, having grown used to Tommen's chatter and general good cheer – she had grown accustomed to his light laughter, to the games he wanted to play or how he wished to venture to the glass gardens whilst babbling on about his day. Sighing, Eliana nodded at the little boy with the gentle heart and didn't hesitate as she climbed into the alcove beside him.

Despite it being a tight squeeze, she managed to secure the tapestry so that she was certain they wouldn't be disturbed. " _Please tell me what troubles you, perhaps I could help you? You shouldn't be so sad,_ " Eliana spoke, her worry growing for the boy had been happen since his arrival in the North.

The silence stretched out for a long while that Eliana thought Tommen wouldn't speak, and then she thought of the Kingsguard still searching high and low for the prince and of Cersei who had been screaming at them for losing Tommen when she slipped away, her brother having faced the worst of it.

She was surprised when Tommen finally turned to her, his face wet with fresh tears whilst his eyes blazed with anger. " _Mother never lets me do anything!_ " Tommen let out as she listened to him. " _She won't let me joust until we get a new master-at-arms._ " He said, his face growing red with irritation as Eliana endeavoured to keep her expression blank as she listened to him.

" _I watched you in the training yard today_ ," Tommen begun. " _I told her I didn't want a master-at-arms. I said I wanted you to teach me after I saw how you bested Joff and your own brothers, but she a prince shouldn't associate himself with Northerners._ "

Eliana chuckled, having not expected any less of Cersei. " _I'm flattered but I understand her concern, Tommen. We Northerners are more violent than those of the South, perhaps it would be more suitable for you to have someone of Southern blood teach you?_ " She suggested softly, tilting her head at him.

" _I begged her to send for Ser Loras to teach me but she insists that he's too busy even though he promised at the last tourney he attended – he's the best jouster in the realm, but she won't listen to me!_ "

 _No wonder he's hiding if he spoke his mind to Cersei,_ Eliana thought.

The prince watched her closely, awaiting her reply and there was much she wanted to say but she had to keep a restrained tongue. " _Perhaps if you spoke to your father about this? He loves the sport as much as you, surely he would aid your wishes more than your mother?_ "

" _I_   _suppose_   _so_ ," Tommen said with a shrug, but she knew he still wasn't content with her words. " _But_   _he_   _won't_   _send_   _for_   _Ser_   _Loras_ ,  _he'll_   _choose_   _someone_   _he_   _likes_."

Eliana wrinkled her nose as she sighed, " _Hmmm... How about I speak to your father about this, eh?_ " She told him, watching him consider it. " _You never know, he might allow me to teach you if my father accepts the office of the Hand._ "

" _Can_   _you_   _speak_   _to_   _him_   _about it?"_  Tommen immediately brightened, sitting on his knees. " _I would love it, I would be able to best Uncle Jaime in single combat!_ "

Eliana smiled briefly, " _I'll be certain to mention it to him tonight._ " She chuckled softly, " _However, I don't know if my skill at teaching will be good enough for you to best your Uncle, but my father had to agree to your father's wishes first."_

" _I hope he does_ ," Tommen replied with a bright smile. " _But I want to stay here longer, at least until Bran wakes up."_

Suddenly Eliana's gaze turned sorrowful, " _I_   _think_   _he_   _would_   _like_   _that_   _very_   _much_." She spoke softly as Tommen reached for her hand. " _You_   _are_   _both_   _such_   _good_   _friends_." Eliana laughed when the head of her direwolf pup peered through the side of the tapestry. " _Oh_ ,  _you_   _fool_."

" _A_   _pup_."

" _A_   _direwolf_ ," Eliana corrected as the ball of fluff crawled into her lap. " _A_   _pesky_   _one_   _at_   _that_ ,  _the_   _little_   _beast_."

Tommen smiled,  _"Does he have a name?_ "

Eliana shook her head, " _He doesn't but I doubt he would answer to it, all he's inclined to do is follow me about all day like my little shadow._ "

" _Why don't you name him Shadow?_ " He suggested brightly as Eliana laughed and nodded.

" _A fine choice._ "

" _I_   _would_   _very_   _much_   _like_   _a_   _pup_ ,  _not_   _a_   _direwolf_." Tommen told her as he stroked its head, his fingers scratching behind its ears. " _Just_   _a_   _pup..._   _I_   _asked_   _mother_   _for_   _one_."

Eliana nodded, " _What_   _did_   _she_   _say?"_

" _She said she might allow it, but only if I don't bother her about jousting again."_  He explained as the joy fled from his eyes, and Eliana felt as thought she lost all the progress she made in cheering him up disappear with it.

" _Do_   _you_   _know_   _what_   _I_   _think?"_  She put her arm around Tommen's shoulders to draw him close. " _I_   _think_   _we_   _should_   _find_   _you_   _a_   _pup_   _and_   _tell_   _her_   _that_   _it_   _was_   _a_   _gift_   _from_   _your_   _father_."

" _Do_   _you_   _really_   _think_   _so?"_  She had never heard Tommen sound so hopeful that it made her grin at him.

" _Of_   _course_." She agreed with a nod of her head. " _Show her how you can provide for it; protect it; love it... Just as you would anything else. Your mother will be sure to notice if you do."_  Eliana promised him as he watched her intently.

All traces of Tommen's sadness had dispersed as he threw his arms around Eliana's neck, pulling her into a tight hug. " _Do you think I will be able to find one right away?"_

" _Of_   _course_ ,"

" _Will you help me?_ " He asked, his voice muffled by her shoulder. " _So_   _you_   _won't_   _feel_   _so_   _sad_   _anymore_."

Eliana pulled away, frowning with a soft smile. " _But_   _I'm_   _happy_ ,  _Tommen_.  _Why_   _would_   _I_   _be_   _sad?"_

Tommen spoke, seeming far more perceptive than Eliana knew he could be. " _Ever_   _since_   _your_   _brother_   _fell..._   _You_   _miss_   _him_ ,  _I_   _do_   _too_."

Eliana's thoughts flew to her brother suddenly, and the loss of smiles they shared and their joyfully conversations with one another. She swallowed heavily as a lump gathered in her throat. " _Yes_ ," She said softly. " _I_   _miss_   _my_   _brother's_   _spirit_   _very_   _much_."

" _Me_   _too_ ," Tommen replied with a sad smile. " _I_   _miss_   _playing_   _with_   _him_." He brightened suddenly. " _Maybe_   _we_   _could_   _visit_   _him_ ,  _would_   _that_   _be_   _all_   _right?"_

She looked glanced away briefly, blinking quickly to banish the tears that tried to form at her eyes before she turned to face him once again with dry eyes and a warm smile. " _That would be lovely_ ," Eliana gave another smile. " _But first I think we should tell someone you're safe; we've been hiding from the others long enough. I think they will be very worried if we stay hidden for much longer._ "

" _All_   _right_ ," He said, sighing unhappily, though he went with Eliana without complaint.

* * *

"I had been seeking Margaery out as I've yet to speak with her today, but you're distressed..." Gesturing to the Kingsguard beside him, Tommen edged forward gradually as he took in the sight before him. He felt his heartrate increase at the sight of what appeared to be an outline of a body beneath a cloak that was being guarded by the direwolf he helped name whilst Eliana was descending the steps that led to the throne. "My princess... What is that?" Tommen questioned aloud, his worry evident but she didn't reply, inside she gestured for him to inspect it himself.

With a cautious hand, Tommen shifted towards the cloak, grasping it between his fingers before drawing it backwards to see the soft features of a girl a little younger than himself. "Is that a- a dead body?" He looked up at her after placing the cloak back over her again. "Whose is it... Did you know her?"

Eliana clasped her hands behind her back, as she noted Margaery's lie. Where had she been then if not with Tommen? And why had she lied about it? "Sansa is barely two years her senior... I swore the girl protection, yet I found her dead upon the floor of my chambers." She paused as a frown formed upon her face. "A maid from House Mooten, I wonder what will Lord Mooten have to say when I tell him of his daughter's death?" She questioned promptly.

"My princess- "

Eliana sighed, "They would continue to flock to the rebels would they not?"

"I-I..."

"Look at her," Her voice drifted to reach him but Tommen didn't move from where he stood. Pulling back the cloak, she let a sharp hiss pass her lips. "Let your gaze fall upon her body... Look at her, damn you!" She saw Tommen jolt backwards but still, his eyes didn't stray to the body. Closing her eyes in frustration, she grasped the front of his jerkin, her first twisted through the fabric to pull him towards her before she forced his head down to stare at the body. "I said  _look at her_..."

Clearly shaken by her outburst, he heard the movement of the Kingsguard behind them and stuck out his hand. "Don't... It's fine." He called to them, although he felt anything but fine. Gradually he opened his eyes, his pupils darting about to focus on what lied before him, what he had only briefly glanced at before because he never liked the sight of the dead. It repulsed him... It scared him. But what also scared him was how quickly Eliana had turned on him, how easily she had scared him... She was a friend, and yet he was honestly terrified of her.

"Your mother did this."

He gave a sigh of relief when she let go of him, forcing him to stumble backwards at the sudden jerk. "But why would she kill an innocent?" Tommen pressed, seeing Eliana's brow raise in what he knew was spite, that he should know the reasoning behind it and he should have.

"You know why, you're not stupid." She whispered, bending down to pull the cloak back over her face. "Unless you're blind."

Tommen let out a nervous stutter before replying. "Eliana, I'm unaware of how this came to pass." He tried to explain, genuinely confused at what was occurring. "If my mother had wronged you- "

"I tried to kill her." Her legs straightened as she stood, her eyes trained upon Tommen as she watched him closely, evaluating his expression and movements. "I tried to kill her because she tried to kill me; she had me strung up like some meat... She cut me just because she thought I killed Joffrey. How I wish I killed the shit doesn't mean the same as saying I bloody did, does it?"

"Mother wouldn't- "

Eliana cut him off with a sigh, "Oh but she did. She almost killed me, and I would've died if your betrothed hadn't been there - if Margaery hadn't arrived when she did, I wouldn't be here talking to you now." She saw his faced brighten at the mere mention of the Tyrell that it made her stomach turn, she had bewitched him through seduction and that wasn't right to taint his soul... Tommen was good, Eliana knew that and Margaery would ruin him in the end - if his mother didn't get there first. "I can see we're both very fond of her, it's almost a relief but still."

"I can't believe my mother would do this... That she would harm such a dear friend because of the actions of her brother? I had nothing to do with this, you must believe me - I'm as shocked as you are, appalled even. " Tommen questioned incredulously, disgusting by what he had hear of his mother, the woman he had loved since he was able to remember had harmed an innocent and had tried to kill his friend. "I cannot set aright her wrongs but I can atone them with justice for you and the ones you love."

"I know didn't but that's not really the point... I know of someone who is more than well informed of...  _This._ " She trailed off, gesturing to Eleanor's body with a heavy sigh. "Eleanor and I had a very close friendship with one another as she was my maid, so I'd like to think you would be able to imagine my horror at having found her that way in a pool of her own blood, crying to me as she blamed herself. The fault is mine." Eliana moved towards Tommen, her face remaining in a grim line as she did. "A girl yet to reach her fourteenth nameday, an innocent... An act of war."

Tommen frowned, "But who would do such a thing?" He pressed in perplexity as he stroked the direwolf as it followed its owner forward, having missed seeing the beast.

"Oh, there are many I can assure you." Eliana spoke softly, her voice oddly controlled than she thought was possible of her considering how angry she felt, feeling the rage slither through every crevice of her body. "Tell me, Your Grace, if I were to present you with any terms... What would be your response?"

"Whatever you ask of me, Princess, you shall have it." Tommen affirmed with a strong bob of his head.

"We've spoke of this before and quite frankly, I don't believe you. I can ask something of you, and yet it never comes to pass." Folding her arms over her chest, Eliana began to circle around Tommen in scrutiny, her brows furrowing still. "How do I know you're a man of your word? Your brother wanted me dead... Your mother still does, and your grandfather- well, I don't know about him exactly but I want to know if I can place my trust in you Tommen." She cut herself off as she halted. "May I call you Tommen?"

He nodded, "Yes, of course."

"To what?"

Tommn sighed, trying his best to remain calm in the situation if it meant Eliana would be as well. "You may call me Tommen, and you can place your trust in me. I won't hurt you."

"Good." She smiled, knowing his words to be true - Tommen wasn't his mother, and thank the gods he wasn't Joffrey. Tommen was a kind boy, that she had always known. "I want what is mine by right. Your grandfather appears to be too reluctant for my liking to grant me it even if given that extra push."

Nodding once again, Tommen stared at her with a slight frown upon his face. "Well, you may voice your desires to me and I will endeavour to meet them if it is within my power to do so." He vowed, stepping towards her.

Eliana's eyes narrowed, "Oh, it is Your Grace."

"What is it?" Tommen questioned immediately, his interest piqued. "What do you want exactly?"

She bit the inside of her cheek as she held his eyes firmly, "First, I want my mother granted safe passage to Dorne with my son and husband for I do not trust some who lurk within the Capital."

His frown deepened, "Why?"

Eliana gave a shrug of her shoulders. "I don't trust your mother." She wasn't going to lie to the boy, what was the point? It would do her no favours in lying for it was the truth, so why lie? Sighing, she continued with her terms. "To hell with it, I don't trust anyone in this city... I don't trust your uncles, your grandfather, your betrothed... The list is very long."

"But Margaery is kind and she loves you, why wouldn't you be able to trust her?" Tommen pressed, his crown sinking forwards on his head as he stepped forwards. "You have a slight against all those I love... It's no wonder they want you dead."

"They're not trustworthy," Eliana replied shortly, turning her back on him, her hand trailing to her sword. "You love Tyrion?" She glanced over her shoulder to look at him, her lips posed in a smirk as she did. He nodded and sighed, "If that's so then why did you allow him to be thrown back into a cell again after he was proven innocent in the sight of the gods?"

"She deserves justice - someone murdered her son!" Tommen bristled, bearing his teeth as his fists shook, hating the smirk she still wore as she looked to him fully once again, an eyebrow raised. "She needs closure, you must see that. You must understand that." He implored, his voice earnest as he spoke, his finger pointed directly at her.

"But it wasn't her brother who did it."

Crossing his arms, he stared at her with a disapproving glance. "What are you saying?" He enquired, not able to stifle the curiosity he felt rising within him at her words.

"Nothing, nothing at all." She smiled falsely, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before she continued. "But what I was going to say is... I want what rightfully belongs to me: Winterfell. I'm its heir - the eldest surviving member of the Stark family - it belongs to  _me_. Yet I still don't have it, why is that?"

But Tommen tried to speak up nonetheless which she admired him for, "But Roose Bolton- " He was cut off.

"Roose Bolton betrayed and murdered my brother, Your Grace." Eliana replied, her tone suddenly full of rage and agitation that immediately stirred worry within him. "His family doesn't belong in Winterfell; we Starks do. Let us Starks and Baratheons become friends once again." Her tone was harsh and firm as she spoke through gritted teeth, but he visibly relaxed when it lessened to its calm state. "It's something our fathers wanted very much... Why should we deny them of it?"

"My father loved your father like one of his brothers... But Roose Bolton is Warden of the North." Tommen reminded dutifully, his tone full of distress as he voiced the truth.

Eliana nodded in understanding of what he'd told her. "Give me Winterfell and make me Wardeness of the North." She issued her ultimatum as she saw his mind work at possible solutions. "I want  _my_ people protected from those that may bring them harm as their kin... The Boltons love them not, they won't protect them like I. You are the King and if you cannot keep your people safe, what good will you do at all?" Eliana grasped his forearm tightly, her fingers curling around his arm and sinking into the flesh there. "How many more innocents have to die?"

 _None,_ Tommen told himself, knowing that no one deserved to die for the mistakes of his family as well as Lia's – it wasn't fair, and he would strive to put an end to it whilst being King. "I've not had the chance to speak with my mother as of late... She refused an audience with me each time I try." He knew as soon as he spoke them that they wouldn't sit well with her, he could see it in her eyes, the violent waves crashing against the rocks. "I'll speak with my mother." He promised, not knowing his answer would agitate her further.

Her brows rose as she nodded, "Are you? When?"

Tommen looked down and shrugged, "I- I don't know." He stuttered, looking back up at her.

"You don't know?" She repeated in disappointment at his words, hoping that it would encourage him to change his answer and mould it to help her in anyway she wanted.

"My mother still mourns for my brother."

"Ah, her  _beloved_ Joffrey, how could I forget?" That was true; Cersei did still mourn for her dearly departed son but that meant nothing to her... The woman would see her dead, she would see her entire family dead. "Of course she does... And I still mourn for my brother but no one cares about that do they?" She countered as she clenched her jaw tightly. "No one ever cares about that - they forget how much your fucking brother tortured my family; my father beheaded, my sister publicly humiliated... No one cares about them."

Tommen remained silently, understanding her point.

"You're weak; you haven't done anything - what good will you do?" Eliana spoke, her eyes staring in hardened scrutiny at the boy. "You're  _just_ a boy, not a King. Whoever expected you fit to rule was clearly deluded if you cannot stop your kingdoms from going to open rebellion with one another.  _What good are you?_ "

He suddenly hardened at her words, finding that they mean to hurt, that they meant to sit in his chest which they did. "I am the King. You can't speak to me in such a way, I demand respect and you seek to belittle me." Tommen blurted, his lip quivering as he spoke. "I'm your King, you pledged yourself to me."

Eliana's brow dipped, "Did I?" She ran a hand across her face in thought, frowning deeper. "I don't recall ever swearing an oath or bending the knee and neither did I kiss your hand... I owe you no allegiance." Eliana explained quietly, her voice unwavering in its eeriness as it met his ears, swirling through his mind. "The King I serve is dead, dearly departed from this world. But that doesn't matter, there's only one thing I need." She told him idly, her hand falling from his arm as she continued in her pacing.

Tommen followed her, "What's that?" He spoke aloud, not intentionally wanting to do so but he had been too engrossed in conversation with her to not let his intrigue be stifled no matter how angry he felt. He had to remind her that he was the King.

"Hope."

Tommen raised an eyebrow. "Hope?" He repeated confusedly.

" _Hope_." Eliana confirmed with a stern nod of her had. "It's the only thing stronger than fear; I learned that a little hope is effective but a lot is dangerous, especially in a world like this." She explained with a small smile as she moved to gather the body of Eleanor back into her arms once more, knowing that she had helped with the leverage to get what she wanted.

Tommen watched her carefully, weighing out his options as thought of how he could benefit from the situation of agreeing to her terms. "I'll grant you those terms if you do one thing for me in return." He told her as she moved to walk at her side, his hand clasped tightly behind his back.

Looking to her side, Eliana tilted her head in question as they neared the door. "Which is?"

" _Teach_   _me_." Tommen requested softly, his words making her frown once again, although Tommen knew exactly what he meant. If she thought him weak, he would demand it of her to make him strong... In every way possible.

She let out a soft chuckle despite the circumstances. "What exactly? How to use a sword? How to rule? I would like specifics, Tommen." She replied in what he thought was a patronising tone, but he couldn't be too sure and so settled to just answering her question.

"Teach me how to be strong."


End file.
